How Much is Enough?
by we'llmakeyoufuckinsick
Summary: Obedience is key if Zexion wants to survive, even if somebody else is pulling the strings. What else is there to do when someone knows everything about you? Rated M for later chapters.
1. Puppet

**_Puppet._**

'_For citizens who think themselves no more than puppets in the hands of their rulers, __nothing is more satisfying than having rulers as puppets in their hands._'  
_-Pico Iyer_.

* * *

General knowledge, useless facts, pointless trivia, and a report coated in A's and A*'s. Anything lower would have marred it. I set down the paper and glanced across the room at him. Demyx, significantly stupider than me and incredibly popular. I read a poem once, it mentioned popularity being born from intelligence. I didn't believe that for a moment. If that did happen, it certainly didn't happen here. Secretly I envied Demyx and outwardly I scorned him and spat venomous insults at him, insults which were masked by a cool composure and a smile.

The room that we were registered in was a science lab. The air was sickly from an experiment that he had conducted that lunch time. A blond teacher taught at the front, his hair rather long for a male's. Vexen was his name. He talked, I listened, he talked, Demyx talked, he yelled, I closed my eyes and waited for the class to resume. That was how a normal day began. Today was different, and it was different for a reason. Today I opened my locker and I found a note.

'_You are now my puppet. Zexion, I know everything about you. I know that you cheated on your girlfriend. I know you made out with Naminé. We'll see what Kairi thinks of that. If you don't want me to tell everybody, then you'll do what I want you to._ _Today you're going to call up your Uncle at exactly twelve o'clock and tell him that you hate him. Tell him you wish he was dead. If you don't, Kairi won't be yours for much longer_.'

I had ignored the printed letter. Why my Uncle? It was lunchtime registration now, and the clock had ticked past twelve long ago. The only person who knew I had kissed Naminé was Naminé, and no matter how much she might want me to leave Kairi, she didn't have the guts to tell. Despite that knowledge, my stomach twisted into uncomfortable knots. I couldn't stand the thought of Kairi finding out. She was my one link to the social circle that I never seemed to be part of, but she still allowed me to be a knowledgeable bystander. That aside, she was gorgeous, and she kept me satisfied. She was more than a girlfriend, she was a statement.

One hour later, it was history class. Axel nudged me until I turned and glared at him. Words about clashing ideologies flew over my head, and I was irritated to be missing valuable information that could mean the difference between an A and an A*. "What, what on Earth do you want?" I demanded in a hiss.

"You kissed Naminé, huh?" Came his cocky voice, much deeper and intimidating than my own. I tensed up. Axel was a good friend of Kairi's, and I knew that he of all people wouldn't approve of my antics.

"No," I denied flatly, trying not to let my eyes fall from his, but still I felt the urge to look away, to fiddle with my pen or to swallow back the tightness in my throat.

"Oh really?" Axel asked and leaned in now, his catty eyes unbearable. I looked down. Why did he have to be so aggressive all the time? I felt his glare locking me in place. Such a lack of respect for other people's personal space…

"Because I heard different y'know," He purred it with a kind of sick satisfaction. The teacher turned and shouted at us, and I fell silent, as did he until she looked away again. I didn't speak, not eager to engage in the conversation again.

"Even got pictures," He added, his voice now had a forced, airy sound about it. Something was amiss here. "Kairi's furious. She got the pictures too. Said she never wants to speak to you again," he added. I didn't look at him until he nudged me in the side. I glared at him again and he nodded under the table. On his phone, there was a picture, clear as day, of me sitting in a café, kissing Naminé. I tensed. Naminé wouldn't have told, she wouldn't risk her friendship with Kairi. The two were like sisters to each other. Not to mention the fact that Naminé was there in the picture, her arms around my neck and mine around her waist.

"Never thought you were the flirtatious type, Zexion. Didn't know you were a liar either." I didn't speak to him. I was now tapping the ball of my foot repeatedly against the floor, my nerves making me jittery. Axel wouldn't stand for this. Kairi had left me. Now I'd just be the lonely geek. I wasn't sure I cared. My mind was working furiously to figure out who had taken the photos. Class ended slower than ever, especially as I sat next to the ticking time bomb that went by the name of Axel.

As soon as the bell rang, I packed my things up as quickly as I could, eager to get away from him. He grabbed my shoulder roughly as he stood up beside me, towering over me. He twisted me around roughly and gave me a false grin.

"See you after school, Zexion," He promised maliciously, and then tore off out of the classroom. After school? My mind was horribly blank for a few moments after until it started whirring at a normal pace again. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Roxas walked home with Kairi. They were both laughing at me. My eyes were watering from the pain, I wasn't even crying. They called me a cry baby anyway. Axel had gotten his daily workout and now I'd have a genuine reason to cover up my eye. I stood in front of the mirror and wiped the blood from my upper lip when I got in. I did my homework and went to bed. It took a long time to get to sleep. I had too much time to think. I had too much time to remember. Everything hurt.

My phone vibrated when I was finally drifting off. I picked it up and looked at it, agitated already. Would it be Kairi? Maybe Naminé? Number unknown... that was weird. I read the text.

'_You better start doing what I say, Zexion, otherwise next time it might be more than a little beating from Axel. I say jump, you say how high. Got it? Now turn your phone off and go to bed. Never know what I might do next if you don't. Goodnight_.'

This time I did what they said. It wasn't on purpose. I was tired anyway. The phone vibrating was just a reminder to turn it off. That was all. I wasn't his puppet. I was an A grade student. Not a toy. Not their plaything… not their puppet… not a toy… not with Kairi… not anything… not really…


	2. Power

_**Power**_

_'The word power has such a generally negative implication in our society. What are people talking about?_  
_Are they talking about muscles, or control?'_  
_-James Hillman._

* * *

Getting ready for school that morning took longer than normal... sluggish, that's the only word I can use to describe it. I spent a good fifteen minutes just sitting on my bed doing my shirt up and then undoing it again. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go in or not. Eventually I decided that there was no point running from what I'd done, and I buttoned it back up. Even standing up and packing my books for the day was a distinct and conscious effort. I hid my eye, but I always did that. I tactfully avoided my parents, but that was nothing unusual. Nobody would notice anything.

The first person I saw in school was Naminé. I tried to give her a weak smile, and it wasn't returned. My heart sank and then I braced myself for whatever was coming. I'd really liked Naminé, it wasn't like it was with Kairi. She'd actually meant something to me and the expression on her face told me that our friendship was about to come to an end. She knew I already knew, and just handed me back a small book I'd given her full of quotes about love. My cheeks flushed, heat creeping over them quickly and gripping the back of my neck while my heart dealt with the first wave of regret and pain.

"I'm sorry Zexion. She means more to me than that. Boys come and go, but friends are forever." I hissed 'bullshit' in my head, feeling betrayed by her, but equally I could see why she was doing what she was. Kairi had most likely asked her to choose. She'd made her choice and I was glad, in a weird way, that she'd chosen friendship over a high school fling. That was just like her.

I sat in music class, one I had taken on a whim and was now deeply regretting as I propped my head on my hand, and my elbow on the table. I was sat next to Demyx, who, I reluctantly have to admit, is an extraordinary musician. He caught me looking and I quickly looked away. He didn't. He carried on smirking at me until I sat up straight and turned my attention to him.

"What?" I asked wearily. I thought that maybe he was about to comment on what I'd done; Demyx was popular, very much so; he would have heard about it.

"Weren't cha listening?" He asked brightly. "We gotta go in pairs for the next piece. Wanna come work with me? You play piano, don't cha?"

"...What, seriously?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. He'd caught me off guard.

"Well yeah, I mean, I don't really like playing piano but it makes a nice kinda sound, plus I really need an A* for this piece." The fact I was an A grade student for music was solely owed to my piano playing, but part of me worried irrationally that I would bring Demyx's grade down. His warm smile reassured me, and I was grateful for the fact I wouldn't be working alone again, albeit somewhat nervous. I stood up and made my way over to the piano with him as we tried to decide what to do for our cover.

The lesson flew by, and I could scarcely believe that Demyx had gone without mentioning _the_ incident. He was surprisingly easy to talk to, and very kind. I realised quickly that all my horrible comments towards him had not only been unnecessary and unprovoked, but born simply from my own jealousy. Ashamed of myself, I stood up from the piano and hurried over to Demyx as he packed his things away.

"I just wanted to apologise and say sorry," I said in a firm voice. I wasn't shy of the word 'sorry' so long as I meant it.

"For what, Zexion?"

"For all the times I treated you bad," I responded, keeping eye-contact with him. It was important to me that he knew I meant it. He just grinned and placed his hand on my shoulder, laughing.

"What? You think I took any of that seriously? Zexion, man, don't worry about it!" I couldn't help smiling with him; his happiness was contagious.

"Thanks, Demyx," I said sincerely, and then took my own bag.

After I moved on to my next class, it didn't take long for my happiness to fade. Chemistry was usually a favourite of mine, if only I could take my eyes off Roxas and Kairi. They kept kissing and every now and again his hand would slip under the table. I didn't want to think about where it was going. I tried to ignore it, but my knuckles were white from gripping the side of the desk. I picked up my pencil roughly and I half expected it to break like it sometimes did in films or cartoons. It didn't. I just wrote my notes in worse handwriting than usual, and my hand ached afterwards. I left the class in a foul mood, which was lightened a little when I walked past Demyx in the corridor and he bothered to acknowledge me, and ask me if I wanted to come eat lunch with him. I politely declined; I didn't like being around people, and him being the social butterfly that he was, it was bound to be somewhere buzzing with noise, somewhere over-crowded. The thought sent shudders down my spine.

It was when I placed my books in my locker that I found the second note. I grimaced; I had avoided turning on my phone all day because of this. Printed again? I suppose it was so that I couldn't identify the handwriting...

_'Zexion, you have now seen what I have the power to do, and just in case you don't know yet, it is not just Axel and Kairi that got those pictures. Everybody in the school did. Ask anybody if you don't believe me. This weekend, you will be staying at your Uncle's house. You will deny him what he wants of you. If you don't do as I say, your new friend, Demyx, will find out everything_.'

I knew I had gone pale. How did they know already about my Uncle's? Even I didn't know that. The phone that lay in my pocket suddenly seemed a little more useful. I shut my locker, and, note in hand, I went into the bathrooms and called John. His gravelly voice managed a hello before he began coughing as usual. I winced and leaned my ear away from the phone until he had stopped.

"Hey John, am I staying at yours this weekend?"

"Yea, Neil just called me to tell me. 'im and 'is bird are off somewhere, probably to shag. Fuck knows someone should," He spat out. I heard his lips around his cigarette as he took another drag.

"Still going through a rough patch with Carla?" I asked. Silently, I was sickened and irritated by the way he spoke about my parents.

"More than a fuckin' rough patch. Bitch walked out on me 'bout a week ago. Be nice to 'ave your company this weekend, Zexion." My hand was shaking with anger by now, my eyes narrowed in response to the sick sadism of his words.

"Yeah."

"Aren't you going to tell me it'll be nice to have my company too, Zexy?"

"Don't call me that," I snapped. "I'll see you this weekend." I hung up the phone and I wanted to break it. A little voice in my head reminded me of expense and practicality, so I just shoved it in my pocket and punched the wall instead. The images wouldn't stop flashing through my mind. "You fucker," I growled at nothing, "You fucking fucker, you fucker, I fucking hate you," the words that were meant for my Uncle died in the air. I stopped talking when I heard another set of feet come in, and my anger faded into a dull, listless silence. I sat back down, not trusting my legs to support me. When I heard them leave, I walked out and habitually washed my hands and dried them before looking in the mirror. I shifted my hair to look at the black eye, and despite the way it stung when I touched it, I sort of liked the way it looked against the blue. It would be the least of my worries by the time this weekend was up.


	3. Resistance

**_Resistance.  
_**  
_'Despair and frustration will not shake our believe that resistance is the only way of liberation.'_  
_-Emile Lahud_

* * *

"Why can't I just stay by myself?" I demanded, following my mother from room to room. I hated that she never made eye-contact with me when we were speaking, too preoccupied with her clothes and make-up. "I'm old enough to, and you know I don't get along with him..."

"Look, Zexion, that's enough." She said in a dismissive tone, turning to me and placing her hand on my shoulder, making me feel shorter than I already was. Aggression flickered briefly over my face, and I locked my eyes on hers. She chose to look back into the one she could see.

"I know you don't get on with him, honey, but we don't want any disquiet in the family. Your father thinks that if you spend more time with him, you'll get closer." I pursed my lips to stop the words coming out. I knew what I wanted to say. It was along the lines of _'yeah, he gets fucking close alright. Takes pictures too. Loves every minute of my company, apparently_.' Sadly, I wasn't that kind of person. Everyone else liked him except me, and he and my father had an exceptionally close relationship which I wasn't about to ruin. No, I didn't want to be the one to tear my family apart, so I just fought back the anger that was burning inside me.

"Fine," I muttered through gritted teeth. She started asking me about what she was wearing and I just walked out of the room. I didn't want to hear it. I really didn't give a shit. I knew I wasn't being fair on either of them really, but I was pretty sure that was justified right about then. My Uncle's only defence was that he was schizophrenic, but people have medication for a reason; why did I have to suffer because he was a prick and didn't take it? My mother didn't know what he did to me, but that didn't help to quench the flames that consumed my chest with a heat that made me want to scream. She was sending me to him. Josie and Neil, fucking mother and fucking father were sending me to that _THING_. Bitterness poisoned my nature.

The car journey was the longest journey of my life. I couldn't help thinking about my note. I couldn't give him what he wanted. Demyx couldn't know, I didn't want this crossing over with my school life. It was none of their business. I didn't let it affect my work, so they couldn't get involved, right? I didn't want police, I didn't want questioning, I just wanted to keep my school life sacred and separate. Perfect grades, perfect son. Nobody had to know. Especially not Mr. Blabbermouth Popularity.

I sat across from my Uncle awkwardly. In the last hour, John had gotten through seven cigarettes and hadn't taken his eyes off me. I was trying to watch the television, which was on low volume, but the feeling of his eyes fixed on my body stopped me paying much attention. I shifted uncomfortably when his gaze slipped too low, and I crossed my legs and arms instinctively, wanting to hide my body from him. I would have left the room, but where would I have gone? The dreaded bedroom? He'd only have followed. I was trying to delay this conflict as long as possible. My lips were dry, and my constant licking them wasn't helping. The air smelled strongly of smoke and dirt. The place was a shithole. I dropped my gaze to the floor now. He was trying to catch my eye to start conversation. I counted the amount of black squares on the base of one of my shoes. Anything not to look at him.

Twelve. My neck ached from staring at the floor, and now my eyelids felt heavy. I went to my room without so much as an explanation, simply a quiet and reluctant 'goodnight'. I heard him get up behind me and my jaw tensed. I picked up my pace, hurried down the hallway and shut myself in the spare room. I wished it had a fucking lock. Fuck, fuck, I could hear his footsteps. This flat wasn't big enough. Footsteps came closer. I could hear my heart pounding, and I couldn't sit down. I hoped he'd walk past and go to the bathroom. The footsteps stopped outside my door. My hopes were in vain.

"C'mere, Zexion," Came his rough tone as he walked in. He was far taller than me, roughly a foot. He was around 6,4, and I'd never noticed that difference more than now. Despair washed over me. I couldn't fight him off; it wasn't like I hadn't tried before. Tears of anger threatened. The injustice of it all made me want to scream. He closed the door and grabbed me by the wrists, pressing his body against mine and backing me up against the wall. I screamed at him and fought more than I had in a long time for him to get off me. Your mind stops functioning right after a while. You stop feeling it when they hit you. You don't realise how bad it is until later. I was only focused on hurting him enough to make him stop. I bit him, dug my nails into him, spat on him, tried to knee him in the groin, but he just pressed against me so I didn't even have enough room to lift my leg. He was far stronger than me, and his rough hands soon had me stripped.

"Leave me alone, LEAVE ME THE FUCK _ALONE_," I shouted at him, shameful tears disgracing my cheeks. Excess adrenaline had me shaking and weak at the knees. I wanted somebody to help, somebody to hear and call the police right then. I wanted it to stop. For the first time since the beginning of all this, I didn't stop fighting until everything went black.

The morning came, and I awoke naked on the floor. I didn't know what he'd done to me, and I didn't want to. I couldn't muster any emotion. Everything was empty. It hurt to smile. He never marked me when he hit. Nowhere visible. Mental scars always last longer anyway.

I took a shower while he was still asleep, and for me, that was the worst part. Your body doesn't feel like your own when you've been touched like that. You can still feel their hands on your skin. You can still hear the whispers, feel the emotions like fresh wounds, and when I was in that shower, every time, I was trying to shed those memories. Somehow, it felt my body was more thickly tainted every time I stood under that water. Too much time to think. I scrubbed myself until I was sure the layer of skin he had touched was gone. I could still feel his hands on me though. I could still feel too much for me to bear. I sat down under the water, buried my head in my hands and let go, sobbing in silence, trying to let the anguish in my heart run away into the water. Despite it all though, at the back of my mind, I was wondering. Did it count? I'd denied him. Whether I was successful or not was another matter. I hoped it did count. I couldn't take anymore. Anymore what? Anything. On these broken mornings, I remember with the greatest of clarity, I always wished for the same thing. As I watched the water disappear down the plughole, I felt jealousy wrap its arms around my shoulders; I wished to be washed away too.


	4. The Truth

_**The Truth.**_

_'There's a world of difference between truth and facts. Facts can obscure the truth.'_  
_-Maya Angelou_

* * *

My Uncle didn't wake up before it was time for me to leave. I felt absolutely blessed. I waited patiently by the window when it got to the hour they were supposed to arrive, and when they did, I couldn't help grinning and rushing over to the door, opening it for when they got up in the lift. I heard the metal slide across, and saw them walk out. I quickly wiped my expression so that it was relaxed and natural, but I couldn't help walking out a little too eagerly.

"Where's John?" My father asked, and my brow furrowed briefly.

"Still asleep. We should leave, come on, let's go, I have a mountain of homework to do and I really don't have time for this," I lied forcefully.

"I'll only be a moment, Zexion, I just want to check he's alright after all that's happened with Carla," My father responded, and I just nodded, choosing to remain outside. I leant against the wall, talking idly with my mother about her night until we both heard my father cry out. My heart skipped a beat and images of what might have happened ran through my mind. Had John hurt him? Maybe he had had one of his videos of me playing in there... Arrrgh!

I couldn't get to the room fast enough. When I got there, I wished I never would have. John, eyes wide open, was hanging from a rope. The same rope he had once used to tie me up. His eyes were glassy and his skin pale. My legs went weak as I looked at his feet, far off the floor. I couldn't believe the sight before me. I felt sick. My father was already struggling to get the rope from around him. He fell with a sickening thud on the floor. I couldn't watch. I walked out of the room, shaking.

I took that week off school. By the weekend, it was confirmed that he had committed suicide. It was blamed on the schizophrenia. My parents found his videos and diary. I walked in just as they were putting one on. I had frozen and mouthed soundlessly. I didn't cry; there were no more tears left. The thing that hurt the most was the way they looked at me afterwards. They seemed almost as disgusted by me as they were by him. I wasn't their perfect son anymore. My illusion was shattered.

They never told the police. It was a family secret. My father was certainly less pained about John's passing after that. They went back to his place and eventually found the photos too. On Sunday night, my father took it all into the back garden. He burned it all. I watched the flames lick the sky, and I got some kind of deep-seated satisfaction out of watching it all go away.  
He and my mother had refrained from asking about it, but on the Saturday, my mother said goodnight to me by holding me and stroking my cheek while tears streaked down her own. I knew she partly blamed herself for making me go there whenever she and father went out. She told me I was still her little boy, and she loved me very much. I promised that I loved her too, held her, and went to bed. I didn't know how to feel about John's passing. Part of me was relieved... a huge part of me. I wanted to say happy, but I knew that would be cruel. Another part of me felt sorry for him. I let that part feel now that he was dead; while he was alive, I couldn't afford to give him any kind of compassion; it meant accepting he was human.

On Monday morning, I went to school as usual. I didn't want to be stuck by myself another week. We'd told the school that there had been a serious incident at home, and they'd accepted that; with my grades, there was no need for them to worry. Lunchtime came quickly, and I found a note in my locker again. I picked it up, leaning in to read it so that nobody would see.

_'Dear Zexion, I hope you liked your reward. I know you tried, and so I kept my half of the deal; Demyx doesn't know. I'm glad he can't hurt you anymore. I'm sure you're very grateful to me, which you'll prove with your next task when I issue it to you. Have a good day, Zexion.'_

I just stared at it, and, without meaning to, I felt a rush of affection for the writer. So he was the one who had killed my Uncle. It wasn't suicide. Any guilt that had lay there now lifted from my shoulders, but now a new fear was instilled with me. This man was a killer... Who was this guy? How did they know so much about me?

"Hey Zexion," Came a cheery voice from behind me. I jolted and hit my head on the top of my locker. Cussing under my breath, I pressed the note roughly into the back of it and closing the locker hastily, putting the padlock on it before turning to see Demyx. I smiled back at him and nodded,

"Hey Demyx. How're you?"

"Forget me; how're you? You haven't been here in a whole week!" I was shocked that Demyx had noticed.

"Oh I'm fine, I was just ill. I had a stomach bug, but I'm all better now," I responded, leaning back against the lockers as Demyx leaned in towards my face, fixing his eyes on mine.

"...What?" I asked nervously. I didn't like people near me as it was, and this wasn't helping.

"I was just seeing if you were lying. Someone told me your pupils change when you lie," Demyx laughed, leaning back again. I rolled my eyes,

"That doesn't really work, you know," I smiled, and then he grabbed my arm, beginning to drag me down the corridor. "What are you doing?" I demanded angrily. I was glaring at the hand wrapped around my arm, not appreciating this rough contact after the week I'd had. His bright eyes met mine and I softened; he was wearing a genuine smile that met his eyes, and I knew he didn't mean to hurt me.

"I was just thinking we could go do some of our music. We missed out on a whole week, Zexion! Lots to catch up on! You don't mind, do you?"

"..." He looked so excitable. I supposed music was his passion; it was the only thing I had seen make his eyes light up like that. "Yes, I suppose we do have a lot to catch up on. Very well..."

That lunchtime, we filled the music room with the sound of the piano and sitar, and, eventually, the sound of his voice, which, I was shocked to find, was beautiful. It seemed deeper than his talking voice, and I started wondering if he did it just to make people like him more. Pseudo-infancy, he seemed fond of that. Once we were done, I saw him texting with a troubled expression on his features.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked, as I folded the music carefully and slipped it into my bag.

"Nah, people are just bitching at me 'cause I wasn't around this lunch."

"Oh..." I felt oddly guilty for taking his time, "Sorry, I can practise in my own time if you need to be somewhere..."

"What? No way, I'd rather spend it with you than them; they talk about each other all the time and I don't like it. Everyone tells me everything and it's nice to have someone who just keeps themselves a bit more private, and doesn't just stab people in the back. It makes you seem less... less like everyone else. I like that. I mean, I know you cheated on Kairi," I winced, "But... I don't know. I didn't get the impression that that was the real you. You're too quiet for that." I sat down opposite him, watching him intently. I was intrigued by his thoughts, even though I supposed that made me a little self-absorbed. "Not only that, you're really good at playing piano, and I think you've got some really valuable insights into music that I could use when I'm a famous musician," Demyx added, looking at me with a boyish grin. He turned his phone off and put it in his pocket, keeping eye contact with me when he spoke. I liked that. I loved that. He was willing to put other people off to talk to me. He really liked me and he wasn't judging me for the mistake I had made.

"That your dream then?" I asked, trying to focus on the conversation instead of the new happiness blossoming inside me and spreading warmth through my body. I couldn't help mirroring his grin and relaxing.

"Yeah. I really love music. It's therapeutic for me. Great way to express myself, y'know?"

"...But aren't you always relaxed?" I couldn't help asking. Demyx just smirked and dropped his gaze.

"Yeah. I am a lot of the time, but everyone gets stressed sometimes, I guess. We're all different, and even though lots of people here act the same, when you get talking to them, they're all really different. Roxas acts the same as everyone else, for example, just the average jock, but then when you get talking, he's got such a great mind, he's really creative, and really passionate about the things he cares about. That's what makes him such a great friend. I act just like the average sociable guy, but even I like some alone time and I worry a lot. I worry about how people think of me, and I worry about my grades, because I know they're not very good. Music helps me vent all that and keep happy." I was quiet for a while, taking a few moments to mull over what he had said.

"I'll help you. With your grades, I mean. We can carry on doing music together, but you can come round after school for the academic subjects." I needed something to take my mind off the awkward silence that lingered in my house these days.

"You'd really do that?" Demyx asked, eyes widening and eyebrows lifting.

"Yes, I would. Demyx, I actually think you're a really amazing person, and I don't say that often. You are so interesting, and you understand a real lot about people. You find pleasure in the little things in life, and I really admire that, so much. I swear you have the ability to just fit in with anyone and make them feel good about themselves. You are a beautiful person," I felt stupid saying it, and I knew I was blushing, but this was my first heartfelt compliment in what felt like forever. I told him exactly what I was feeling because after John, true feelings like that felt like they earned the right to be said. Besides, it was Demyx, he wasn't going to judge me for it.

"..." His lips were parted slightly, and he seemed speechless. I hadn't sounded that stupid, had I? I smiled weakly and then stood up. In a shot, he was on his feet, and I was startled by the feel of his arms around my neck, his head buried in my shoulder. I reflexively made to push him away, but then I heard his shaking breath, the sound of tears catching in his throat, a sound I remembered because it was usually the one coming from my lips. I'd never been the one to induce it. Instead of pushing him away, I lightly wrapped my arms around him, and allowed him a moment of weakness. I'd never seen him get like this before, nor any other male in our school. Was he really that insecure?

"Thank you, Zexion," I heard him whisper in a voice that did match his singing voice. I stroked his back, and then patted it gently. He leaned back with his typical grin. He was good at composing himself, I realised. "Meet you by the gates after school?" He offered. I nodded,

"Yeah, see you then!" I was smiling again, his happiness as beautifully infectious as ever. I watched him grab his bag and hurry off to our classroom for registration. I'd be late, but Vexen would understand. I practised the piano again, working on auto-pilot as I tried to pick apart the way Demyx had acted. When I picked up my bag and headed for class, I'd given up on that. I decided that I would accept him as he was instead of making my own assumptions. He was a great guy; he deserved that much from me.


	5. Respect

_**Respect.**_

_'When people do not respect us, we are sharply offended; yet in his private heart, no man much respects himself.'_  
_-Mark Twain._

* * *

I was late. I hoped Demyx wouldn't have left already. I doubted he would have; he was too kind for that. The first thing I saw when I was walking up to the gates was Demyx talking with Axel. They were the only people still there. I checked my watch and grimaced. No wonder they were the only ones, it was ten to four, and we'd been let out about twenty minutes before. My punctuality had slipped, and I inwardly cursed myself for it.

As I drew closer, it became clear that it was not an ordinary talk. Axel was snarling and pointing his finger in Demyx's face, and Demyx was leaning away from him, keeping his voice at normal level. The next thing I knew, Axel had drawn his hand back and struck Demyx roughly across the face. The blond's head snapped to the side. He stood in stunned silence.

"What the hell are you doing?" I shouted, storming up to Axel. His catty eyes now turned on me. I looked away from him, focusing on Demyx instead. "Are you alright?" I asked, disgusted by the red, hand-shaped mark that Axel had left on his face. Demyx just nodded slowly.

"Yeah... Sorry, Zex... can't do tonight. See you tomorrow..." He smiled apologetically, and then rushed out the school gates, hurrying down the street, his head lowered. I watched his retreating form, and then turned to face Axel, shoving him roughly. He just smirked at my pathetic attempt.

"What the fuck was that for?" I demanded.

"None of your business, shorty," He responded calmly, and then turned to leave.

"You fucking cunt, he didn't deserve that!" I spat, anger coursing through me.

"The fuck did you just call me?" He turned to face me, his nostrils flaring. My heart skipped a beat at his aggressive tone; he had snapped faster than I had anticipated.

"H-he didn't deserve that and you know he di- Argh get off of me!" He'd grabbed me by the front of the shirt and yanked me close to him, his lips pulled back across his teeth.

"You don't fuckin' talk to me like that. Got it?"

"And you don't treat people like that; who the hell do you think you are?" I demanded, struggling not to lose my nerve.

"Who the hell do _I_ think _I_ am? You're the one who thinks he can cheat on Kairi and get away with it! Demyx seems to be following your deceitful lead and fuckin' off with you! He was meant to be with me and Roxas this lunch! Not you!" He spat when he talk, flecks of it going on my face. How disgusting.

"Get off me," I said, lowering my tone now. I had expected my dismissal to defuse the situation, but it didn't. I felt his hand collide with my head, my elbow strike the floor, and a swirling white pain in my head. I blinked quickly to try and clear my vision, my watering eyes obscuring the world. The next thing I knew there was a heavy weight on me and hands around my wrists, pinning me to the floor. Still disorientated, it took me a few moments to react.

"Axel, I don't want a fight, let me go," I told him, feigning calmness.

"I don't care what you want," He spat and his fist slammed against my jaw this time. Axel leaned close to my ear and I tensed. I could feel his lips move against my flesh as he spoke. "Used to this position with John, weren't you?" I froze. Time slowed down. He knew. My mind was frozen and horribly blank. I open and closed my mouth, trying to find something to say. Had he been the one writing the letters? My eyes asked the question for me; I couldn't get breath enough to even speak.

"What?" He asked with a sadistic grin. "Want to know how I know?" I nodded slowly, not struggling to get away anymore, just lying beneath him in a stunned silence. "Well, Zexion, that's for me to know, and you to find out." He punched me once more across the face, and my head hit the pavement. I knew I was bleeding, but it was only a vague acknowledgement lingering in the back of my mind.

"You wrote them..."

"Wrote what?"

"The letters."

"What letters?"

"Don't play fucking stupid with me, Axel, I know you fucking wrote them!" I shouted, looking at him and trying to break free of his grasp again. He didn't let me. Just pinned me there until I stopped struggling. I realised soon enough that I wasn't going to get answers.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," He responded in an empty voice. He stood up at last and kicked me in the side before walking out the gates. I watched him go, but still couldn't find the energy to drag myself off the floor. Not right now. Not ever, really...


	6. Substitution

__

_**Substitution.  
**_  
_'I'm passionate about everything, like my family and friends. Anybody I am talkin' to is gonna be bona fide real.  
There is no substitution for happiness. Period.'_  
_-Suge Knight._

* * *

So maybe it was Axel. I threw my bag down onto my bed and then sat down at my desk. I wasn't going to clean myself up tonight, maybe as some sort of bitter proof to myself that they really didn't even want to look at me anymore. I did my homework and finished it just before dinner. I went down, still parading my wounds, and sat down at the table. We always ate at the table, I think we were clinging to the last remnants of a traditional family, as we weren't particularly so in other ways. My mother worked, and had done so since I was born. It had been my father to stay at home with me in my first few years of life, and I was well aware that I had formed more of an attachment to him than I had my mother. That's why it hurt the most that he couldn't even speak to me anymore.

After an awkward silence while we ate, I had excused myself and gone back upstairs. They really hadn't noticed the livid bruises on my cheekbones, the grazes beside my eye, or the blood on my shirt from when he had split my lip. It always hurts the most to have something as miserable as that confirmed, especially when you already know it's true. When I got to my room, I took off my shirt to inspect it. There wasn't much blood on it; it had only been a split lip, after all, but I was always immaculate and tidy. Always. For a few minutes, I wallowed in self-pity about my parents, and how they didn't care about me anymore, but the vibrating of my phone snapped me out of that. I was almost too eager to read the text. Anything to break the despair and monotony of the day. This mystery had almost become a source of excitement in my life, and I think, really, that in itself was pretty pathetic. I hoped it wasn't Axel writing the letters. That would be a terribly boring conclusion. I wanted it to be someone unexpected, something that would blow me away. I considered, for a second, that I could be a masochist for wanting someone I didn't know very well to know so much dangerous information about me. I brushed that aside and read the text.

____

_'Go into school tomorrow and start a fight with Axel. Leave at least one mark on his face. Don't ask why. You will do what I say, Zexion. You owe me after what I did for you.'  
_

Well, that was a new one. I felt morally obliged to follow these orders, but another fight with Axel? I wasn't sure I could take this again, especially if it was pre-meditated. I only fought with Axel today in the heat of the moment, and even then I hadn't done well. But... he was right. I owed him. I felt discomfort coil around my waist. I put my phone down and was about to lay down when it started vibrating again. My heart gave a peculiar kind of jolt. I went over to see who had texted me, but I realised it was a call. I didn't know that number. My heart was in my throat as I shakily picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Zexion! It's Demyx," I breathed a sigh of relief and threw myself down on my bed next to my bag.

"Hello Demyx, how're you? Alright after today?" I asked with concern.

"What? Oh! That! Nah, it was nothing, I wouldn't worry about it, Zexy. Sorry about calling it off so last minute," He apologised and I couldn't help smiling.

"Look, it's completely fine. I don't think I'm going to be able to do tomorrow either though,"

"Why's that?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm busy after school," I half-lied with a false smile, even though I knew he couldn't see it. It was only a half lie, because I probably would be busy after school, but most likely because I would have to be hooked up to a life-support machine once Axel was through with me.

"Oh... Okay, Zexion, what about the day after that?"

"Yes, that's fine," I assured him, not wanting him to think I was avoiding him.

"Okay, see ya! Sweet dreams!"

"Yes, goodnight, Demyx." I hung up the phone, threw it onto my desk where it clattered down rather noisily, and then slowly rest my head down. Even my pillow felt harsh against my skin. Taking Demyx's advice, I soon slipped into a relaxing state where sweet dreams stroked my mind.

* * *

I'd avoided Demyx all day. I'd avoided everyone all day. It was now three-thirty and I had to start a fight with Axel before he got out of the school gates. Without reason or purpose really; the thought of beating the information about how he knew about John out of him was laughable.

I walked straight up to where Axel was waiting for the bus with his friends –great, now I had to look like a prick in front of them too. I wondered vaguely why Axel wasn't walking as he usually did, and I supposed it was to do with the weather; the skies did look as if snow was about to fall. As I got closer to him, I changed my path so it looked as if I would walk past, but as I did, I turned and spat at him. How disgusting; I felt already as if I had lowered myself, but I knew it would at least spark his temper. He grabbed my shoulder after a few seconds, realising what I'd done, and he forced me to face him.

"What the FUCK was that for?" He demanded. Looking at him, this felt the same as yesterday, and I hadn't left a mark on him then either. I had no chance. Fuck I really didn't want to fight. I felt suddenly tired, and I didn't even want to know how this would play out. I braced myself and I felt his fist collide with my face. Oh fuck, same place again. I cried out in pain, eyes watering. He was about to hit me again. I closed my eyes and cursed everything. The blow never came. There was a loud crash. My eyes opened and then widened when they found the new scene before me. Demyx had grabbed Axel and now had him by the collar, held against the school gates. His lips curled in distaste as he glared at the red-head.

"The hell d'you think your doing?" Demyx asked in a voice that was notably forced into calm. Oh shit, please don't let Demyx fight for me. Not only did I look pathetic for letting another guy fight my battles, but I really had started this one- and for no reason.

"He fuckin' started it, get the fuck off me, Demyx, what the fuck are you, a faggot?"

"Eurgh, no, I'm just sick of seeing you treat everyone like they're shit," The harsh words sounded foreign on his lips and I could barely believe I was hearing it from him.

"People like you are shit," Axel spat back. "Turnin' your back on me already, Demyx? I thought we still had a year or two before that happened," He said in a very soft and dangerous tone. At that moment, I imagined him as a flickering candle flame, one that was barely inches from a pool of petrol. Something ignited in Demyx's eyes, something I didn't recognise. Before I had time to register what had happened, Axel was on the floor after colliding with the gates and falling on his side. The bus pulled up and Axel scrambled messily to his feet, glaring at Demyx.

"This isn't over," He promised Demyx, who said nothing, just gave him the once over and nodded. I stood with Demyx as everyone else got onto the bus. As it drove away, I could already see the bruise rising around Axel's eye. I lowered my head, ashamed.

"I'm sorry, Demyx."

"I thought you were supposed to be busy today," His voice was lined with betrayal.

"...I...I..." He turned to look at me and I couldn't meet his gaze.

"If you don't want to see me, Zexion, then don't make stupid promises, because to be honest, it's just fucking annoying," He scolded.

"I'm sorry, Demyx. I didn't mean for you to get involv-"

"Then why start a fight with him? You can't handle him, and I'm your friend, I have to back you, that's what friends do, I just think what you did was really stupid and selfish." I snapped. Oh God I didn't want to, but I did.

"How was I supposed to know you would get involved? How was that selfish? It was my own fight, not yours; it was your choice to do what you did!"

"Are you stupid?" He asked, but I could see in his eyes that he was as angry and hurt as I was. "When your friend's about to get beaten into the ground, defending them isn't a choice; leaving them to get hurt doesn't cross your mind."

"Axel's friends didn't help him."

"Yeah, exactly, which is why I told you that I don't like that group, they're not friends; they're backstabbers and users. They don't really care about each other. I happen to care about my friends, that a crime these days? Geez. Just be more careful next time, yeah?" I just nodded weakly, hating that I couldn't argue with him. I understood, essentially, what he was saying. To him, being friends meant that you didn't face problems on your own, and I had brought a problem upon us both.

"I'm sorry, Demyx." He sighed and gave a reluctant smile.

"Don't worry about it," He ruffled my hair and I pulled away, feeling like a child. I gave him a dirty look and he just laughed. "See you tomorrow!" He grinned, and then turned, heading home. I watched him for a few seconds before turning in the direction of my own house. I began walking slowly, lost in thought. That was certainly something new to consider. I'd never looked at friendship the way he did. My phone vibrated when I was almost home. I paused, taking my phone out of my pocket and looking at the text. I was dreading it; I already knew that I hadn't completed my task.

______

_'Zexion, I'm impressed. A black eye on a red-head; I can tell you now that it doesn't suit him. You've followed my orders well. Your next task will be something a little more intellect based. Goodnight.'  
_

Wait, _______what!_?


	7. Mistakes

_**Mistakes.  
**_  
_'Mistakes are, after all, the foundations of truth, and if a man does not know what a thing is, it is at least an increase in knowledge if he knows what it is not.'_  
_- Carl Jung._

* * *

A mistake. His first. I hadn't left that mark on Axel, Demyx had. Axel being the writer? Bang goes that theory. I couldn't take my eyes off the text. A grin spread across my features. Finally some sort of clue. They hadn't been at school today, but they had seen Axel's bruise within half an hour of him getting it. I slipped my phone back into my pocket, and thoughts danced around my mind as I tried to figure out who it could be. I got up to my room, and wrote down a list of possibilities. Who, from Axel's group, hadn't been in today? Eventually it was narrowed down to just three.

_Suspects:_  
_Roxas._  
_Marluxia._  
_Naminé._

No, that couldn't be right. Roxas couldn't spell to save his life and Naminé couldn't be the writer, because the first letter had been accompanied by a picture she couldn't have taken. Marluxia? Not a chance. He was not only too feminine to murder, but on further inspection, his FB status was about him being in bed and feeling sick. I was missing something, but I couldn't think of anyone else. My phone vibrated loudly in my pocket, making me jolt. I pulled it out, and then raised my eyebrows. Axel.

"Hey, Zexion" Came his rough voice when I answered.

"Hey Axel... What's up? Sorry about today." Setting my pencil down and feeling like a rather useless detective, I turned my attention to the animal that was making my throat tighten with fear.

"Nothing much, I'm comin' over to yours though. We need to talk. Kairi's makin' me do it, she's gettin' pissed at me for fightin' with you all the time."

"It's only been twice," I muttered, irritated by Kairi's interference. I couldn't care less about what had happened at school anymore.

"That's what I said. She counts the time I beat you up though. Bitch, I love her. She's still got a soft spot for you." He laughed in a clipped kind of way, and I knew already that it wasn't just Kairi who had the problem; it was Roxas. He and I had been on good terms before this, and sitting next to him in English class was growing steadily more awkward. The silence between us hung precariously over our heads like the sword of Damocles. Roxas had told Axel, and Axel was only bothered because Roxas was. The mentality of their entire group against me wasn't in Roxas' nature. If Axel made friends with me again, then Roxas could apologise for dating Kairi, his cover-up, so soon after we broke up.

"Fine, when do you want to come over?" I conceded. He'd probably come round if I didn't let him anyway. It was just easier this way.

"Now. What's your address?" He asked in a disinterested voice. I gave it to him, muttered something about seeing him soon and hung up. I gave up on the case, picking up my sheet of paper, slipping it into the drawer I'd kept all the notes in. I'd even printed out the ones that had been texted me. I typed this one up too, and then hit print. It didn't. Exasperated, I tried again. Once again, it didn't work. Forget it, it wasn't worth this hassle. I shut the program, and then began cleaning up my room for when Axel arrived. I went and told my Dad that I was having my friend over. He didn't even answer me.

After Axel arrived, we were silent for a long time. I could see the bruising around his eye. He could see the bruising on my cheekbones.

"Sorry," He eventually said, shrugging it off like he didn't mean it. "It was just payback though; you really shouldn't get involved with mine and Demyx's business..." Something lit in his eyes and he looked at me, "Is that why he stuck his nose in today? He know you stuck up for him?" He asked, and I shook my head.

"I didn't tell him."

"Didn't he ask about the bruises?"

I paused. Come to think of it, he hadn't. Ouch. Maybe they just weren't visible in that light. Maybe he just thought I'd managed to slip over, especially since the weather had made the grounds icy. Yes, that was probably it.

"No, he didn't," I told Axel in a quiet voice. I saw him smirk. I knew that brought him some kind of satisfaction. "Yeah, I'll be right back," I muttered, aggravated by him already. I was heading into the bathroom just to relieve myself of the oppressive feel he had brought into my room. I locked the door and checked my bruises again, and then washed my face in warm water. The air was far too cold for my liking. I dried my face off, tightening my jaw so that my teeth didn't chatter. I'd have asked my father to turn the heating on, but he'd probably just have ignored me. I took a good ten minutes just thinking over the relationship between Axel and I. Somehow, by the end of this stay, we would be civilised. I was struggling to think of how we would get to that point.

When I walked back into my room, Axel was stood by the printer as it churned out a second copy of the letter he already had in his hand.

"The fuck is this?" He demanded, rounding on me. My heart had practically stopped. "Zexion, what the FUCK is this?" His brow was furrowed and his fists clenched.

"I-"

"Who the fuck wrote this, and why the fuck are you printin' it out? Are there more of these? Who the fuck's watchin' me?" I could see already that he was on edge and he seemed to react worse to this than I had. I couldn't fathom why though.

"I don't know who wrote it," I admitted, palms sweating. I stepped forward and tried to snatch it off him, but he held it high above my head, grabbing me with his free hand and pinning me against the wall. "Axel, I don't know!" I nearly shrieked, not wanting him to hit me again. I knew my eyes betrayed fear and he had recognised it. He was laughing at me. I looked down, gritting my teeth.

"So you got sent somethin' on a computer and you didn't know who wrote it? Why didn't you run it through an IP tracker?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I didn't get it on there. I typed it up."

"Why?"

"So I can keep it with the rest of them," I mentally kicked myself the second the words were out.

"Them? So there are more?" He pushed his body against mine, trying to intimidate me, and I closed my eyes, wishing it would stop. Images of John were spinning around my head and I hated the contact, I fucking hated it. I tried to shove him away but it didn't do a thing. I kept my eyes closed. Suddenly, his grip slackened and he stepped back. I folded my arms uncomfortably across my chest and went to sit down on my bed, crossing my legs.

"Sorry," He muttered. "I forgot about that."

"Whatever..."

"Where are the other notes?"

"Second drawer down. I don't know who wrote them, so don't ask." He was very slow at reading them, but I could tell he was just being thorough. He read them at least three times over each. I was surprised by the way he acted once he read the letters. Axel walked over and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. His lips touched the top of my head and I felt suddenly safe. Axel was taller than me, more aggressive than me, and generally more fit than me. Having him on my side felt like I had an advantage instantly.

"So these were the letters you were talkin' 'bout before... sorry, Zexion. Didn't know. This must be really shit for you, I'd fuckin' hate to have someone watchin' me like that."

'_You are now my puppet. Zexion, I know everything about you... you'll do what I want you to._ _Today you're going to call up your Uncle at exactly twelve o'clock and tell him that you hate him. Tell him you wish he was dead... You better start doing what I say, Zexion, otherwise next time it might be more than a little beating from Axel. I say jump, you say how high. Got it? ...Everybody in the school did. Ask anybody if you don't believe me. This weekend, you will be staying at your Uncle's house. You will deny him what he wants of you... I'm sure you're very grateful to me, which you'll prove with your next task when I issue it to you... fight with Axel. Leave at least one mark on his face. Don't ask why. You will do what I say, Zexion. You owe me after what I did for you...Zexion, I'm impressed. A black eye on a red-head...'  
_  
They were all laid before me, mapping out my life for the past few weeks. Axel was kind to me for the rest of that evening, and, in detail, I explained every letter to him and what it had lead to. He was the one that put it all away in the drawer again. Axel sat down next to me, silence ringing in our ears for a while after that. It was ten by now, and I already knew he had no intention of going home.

"I'll sleep on the sofa tonight." I told him.

"No you won't." That set me on edge. I wasn't homophobic exactly, but Axel was out and gay, and known to be very forward. Perhaps it was a little vain of me to presume he would hit on me that night.

'That night' came all too fast. I faced the wall when I was undressing. I didn't like my body, or other people seeing it. I thought that was probably weird for a guy, but I didn't really care. People were used to it with me. Roxas, gay, but still far enough into the closet to dress it up as hormones, was a similar story, but he let Axel touch him. I knew those two had something going on, but it was unspoken. Maybe that was what gave Axel the idea he could touch me when I took my shirt off. His hands were on my chest, and I jolted, trying to pull my shirt over my head faster so that I could turn around and punch him. He was gone before I could do that. Axel was undressed down to his boxers, laying in my bed and caressing his feminine hips. He seemed amused and enthralled by his own body.

"Cover yourself up," I scolded, walking over and then laying down on the floor.

"Don't be a prick, get into bed," Axel ordered, leaning over and grabbing my wrist, yanking me up roughly.

"Get off, I'm sleeping there," I insisted.

"Do I need to pin you to the bed?" Axel asked, and I just looked at him scathingly.

"This is like a stupid and cheesy porno, let go, Axel, I can get in bed myself." He did and I climbed in, pushing myself as close to the white wall as I could. He got in beside me and flicked the light off. I felt his arm coil around my waist and I sighed, irritated.

"I'm not gay, Axel, so you can cut that out right now."

"Did I say you were?" He asked. His voice sounded that touch more menacing in the dark, so I fell silent. I was tense for a long while afterwards, but he kept his body away from mine. It was only his arm in contact with me. He didn't shift his hand, so I allowed myself to relax.

"I'll help you figure out who it is," He muttered, and I realised how close his lips were to my ear. His hot breath sent shivers down my spine.

"Thanks, Axel." I doubted he could do anything, but it was a nice gesture. I was soon asleep beside what had begun as my enemy, and now had gotten closer to me than my closest friends. Still though, that didn't mean I could tolerate his arm and hand on my bare skin.

The second I awoke the next morning, I pulled myself out of bed and got a shower, scrubbing the spot his flesh had rested on that night. I was frustrated at how dirty that innocent act had made me feel. Even now I wasn't free of John. Not then. Not now. Not ever. Not really...


	8. Betrayal

_**Betrayal.**_

_'Tragedy in life normally comes with betrayal and compromise, and trading on your integrity and not having dignity in life. That's really where failure comes.'_  
_-Tom Cochrane._

* * *

I couldn't believe I was doing this. It was like I said, he deserved better from me. I was raiding Demyx's father's drawers for papers regarding meeting times and locations. My hands were trembling with excess adrenaline for fear that Demyx would walk in on me and see what I was doing. I didn't have an explanation for why; there wasn't a chance that I would tell him about the letters. I found it somewhat amusing that it was now words condemning me when I had loved them so dearly. English class was now painful; persuasive writing had become a joke between me and the blank page. It'd been a week since I got the last letter, and despite Axel's offer to help, I'd asked him to leave this one to me, though he had helpfully informed me that Antonio was Demyx's father. I didn't know how he knew. This job wasn't particularly intellectual, which had been disappointing, but the task itself had made me feel like a disloyal, albeit highly confused, prick. It was simply this.

_'Find the files in Antonio's drawer labelled 'Meetings'. You will take them, and note down those taking place in the next three weeks. Replace the files, and then leave the notes under the fourth stone near the park on Rateably Road on Friday 18th. If you don't? Daddy's neck will find the noose.'_

If there was anything I had gained from this experience, it was this; the knowledge that every single day was a blessing. I realised that life wasn't half as solid and indestructible as I had once thought it was. It hung in the balance by a delicate string and there were people out there with blades to slash them with. And then it was over. It was as simple as that. No amount of tears could bring them back. Not ever.

Friday had come, and I hadn't found it hard to get an invite over to Demyx's, simply offering to give him tutoring in English Literature that night. The difficult part had been how to get him out the house so that I could find his father's drawers. After an hour of contemplating this and teaching him various techniques in both writing and literature analysis, he had asked for a break and I had gratefully complied. He mentioned being tired, so I suggested that he go and get some coffee from the store. He had, and so now I had less than fifteen minutes to find the files and copy them out. I stumbled across them at last and glanced at the clock. My hands were shaking and I couldn't even hold the pen. I'd never felt this weak. I jotted them all down scruffily, but at least it was legible. I heard the front door click open. I pushed the files back in, shoving my copy in my back pocket and hurrying out the room. When I got out, he was on the top step. There was a moment of silence between us as our eyes met. He gave me a quizzical look as I stood in the doorway, and my heart fluttered. His eyes looked oddly dark when they lit on me.

"I was looking for the bathroom," I forced out calmly by way of explanation.

"Oh." They brightened again and he pointed three doors down. "Just down there, Zexy. Seeing as it's Friday, do you wanna stay over the night? We could watch a movie and play video games or something." I nodded, forcing a natural smile.

"That would be great, Dem, thanks. Do you mind if I borrow your phone to let my Dad know?"

"Yeah, that's cool."

Neil didn't even answer the phone. I knew he was in, he was just ignoring me. I had a dark moment, right then, as I contemplated not leaving the notes, just as revenge. I realised quickly that I didn't hate my father enough to have him killed, but I was furious that I was betraying a good friend to protect someone who wouldn't give me the time of day for something that, I could admit now, was not my fault. There had been a long period when I had thought it was though, but the logical part of my brain was slowly over-riding it. I blamed myself for being weak, and told myself that if I'd really wanted it to stop, I could have made it happen. John used to tell me that a lot. I was starting to think the same about this letter writing. I was intelligent; if I really wanted to, I could probably have found the culprit by now.

That night, Demyx and I played video games until ridiculously late. I couldn't even tell you when I fell asleep. We wound up sitting up and talking about life in general and... well, everything really. In the end, I was so tired that I didn't even know what I was saying. I vaguely recalled Demyx asking me something, and my mind going off on a tangent. After that, everything had gone black, so I supposed I had passed out from exhaustion. Weirdly, in retrospect, I found myself thinking that it had been one of the best nights of my life.

I woke up in his bed. I supposed he had carried me to it. He was downstairs on the sofa, and I appreciated that he hadn't just behaved like Axel and crawled into bed with me. I dressed first thing that morning and went downstairs, startled when I bumped into an older man with black hair and a similar facial structure to Demyx. I'd made him spill his coffee, and my cheeks burned.

"Oh, sorry, Sir..."

"Ah! You must be Zexion. Don't worry about it, Son," The term made my heart lurch awkwardly and I couldn't help smiling. He was like Demyx in that sense; he had the ability to make me feel instantly relaxed.

"Demyx is still asleep. Can I get you anything?"

"Oh... No thank you, Sir..." I was looking at the coffee on his shirt that was sure to stain. How could he not mind that?

"Oh, please, call me Antonio." I felt instantly guilty. This was the guy whose meetings I was disclosing information about. I wondered why they wanted information on his meetings. What did he even do for a living that was so important? He was certainly dressed smartly though... I eyed his suit and then looked into his face again. He had a strange air of authority about him, and he was also oddly charismatic, just like Demyx.

"Well, Son, I have to get back to work. No rest for the wicked, eh? You and Demyx have fun today. You got a way of getting home?" He asked. "It snowed again last night, so it's pretty icy. I could give you a lift."

"Oh, no, Sir, uh, Antonio, I mean. It's fine; I can walk."

"Sure?"

"Oh yes, absolutely, thank you ever so much though," I was red in the cheeks and I kind of just wished he'd go. I always felt awkward talking to other people's parents. He seemed to sense my discomfort, and with a nod, he disappeared into his room.

I left before Demyx had woken up, but I left a thank you note to him and his parents for having me. I had a moment where I really didn't want to put the meeting information under the rock down Rateably Road. I did it anyway. I wasn't a good friend. I wasn't really a good son either. My shoulders slumped, and I made my way home feeling degraded and weak. I had no choice though, did I? Did I do the right thing? Someone, please, _please_ tell me; I just don't know anymore.


	9. The Beginning

**_The Beginning._**

_'Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.'_  
_-Winston Churchill._

* * *

Axel looked up as his father walked in, and respectfully rose out of his seat. His father looked over at him, shaking snow from a sheet of paper he had in his hand.

"Throwin' it down again," He muttered to Axel, referring to the snow, and then gestured for him to sit down. Axel did so and sighed, tracing his finger lightly over his bruised eye.

"If it keeps this up, I not gonna be goin' in Monday, am I?" Axel asked vaguely, leaning back in his chair.

"Probably not, which suits me fine, because we need to talk about you takin' up the business," Roberto responded. Axel began drumming his fingers on the chair, his jaw tightened.

"You have my final decision already. Why don'tcha just drop it?"

"You'd do well to mind your manners. For your information, I'm already seekin' out another kid to take over. He's 'bout your age, but testin' him is becomin' a fuckin' pain."

"Oh yeah?" Axel asked, watching the television, evidently disinterested in what his father had to say now it only very loosely involved him.

"Yeah. Little fucker's goin' to play right into my hands though, you'll see."

"I don't really give a fuck, Dad," despite not wanting to take up the business, Axel was even less interested in who was going to be replacing him. It felt as if Roberto were rejecting him for his decision. Roberto ignored him, and then walked upstairs, no doubt planning to get back to work.

'Work', Axel mused. Couldn't really be called that. The word he would use was murder. Since his father, Roberto, was very young, he had idolised Tony Spilotro, a man who had taken over Vegas in 1971. He had avoided over two years of FBI electronic surveillance, and threatened to kill a guy just because he called him 'Mr. Spilotray'. Axel smirked to himself, watching the television, but not really seeing it. Roberto, he thought, had been more than happy to be brought up into the world of gangs and Mafia crime, but Axel had other things in mind. He was well aware that it would cost him his inheritance, but taking up a lifestyle of always being on the run, never knowing if you were going to live another day... That wasn't his style. He liked to do his own thing, not play by the rules that other people threw down in front of him.

It was eight on a Sunday; naturally, it was only now that Axel was planning to begin on his homework. The skies outside were pitch black, as they always were this far into winter. He stood up and rolled his shoulders back, sighing as they cracked in a satisfying manner, and then made his way into his room, looking at the sheets piled up on his desk. He sat down and let his eyes skim over them before putting pen to paper. He snarled in irritation when nothing came out.

"God fuckin' damnit!" Axel threw the pen at the wall so that it bounced back into the bin. He smiled smugly at the unexpected success and then made his way into his Roberto's room, or office, depending on your point of view, about to ask to borrow a pen.

"Hey Dad, can I-" He realised Roberto wasn't around. Must have been in the bathroom. He walked around the other side of his desk, searching for a pen he could borrow on a permanent basis. Axel froze when he saw a picture of Zexion on his father's desk. Next to that were an abundance of draft notes which had been scribbled out and re-written. The ones that Axel had read just a week or so ago. He heard the toilet flush and he ran out the room, not wanting to be caught by his father, who would no doubt treat Axel with the same contempt and he gave anyone who dared to look at his 'work' without his permission, likely to be accompanied by what he called 'body conditioning' and what Axel called pain.

Axel shut his door with a forced calm, and then sat down, staring blankly at the wall. His own father. "God fuckin' damnit," He whispered, and suddenly felt a rush of sympathy for Zexion as everything suddenly clicked into place. The notes to Zexion and the murder of John... It all made sense to him now. Axel had known about John because he was an old friend of Roberto's, an ex gang member who had never shaken off the idea that he could do what he wanted with people whenever he wanted. He would stumble round in a drunken stupor and brag about how he had raped his nephew, Zexion, and go into graphic detail that would make Axel sick to the stomach. His father laughed at the time, but after he was gone, Roberto would threaten to kill him, talking about what a disgrace he was to the gang's name. The task had just been an excuse to finish him off once and for all, and to make Zexion trust the man writing the letters. To make him feel indebted to him for relieving his pain. And now what? Zexion, he supposed, would be asked to take over the business the day he turned eighteen. Axel knew that, despite all his book smarts, the boy wouldn't have one fucking clue what he was getting himself into. A life of drugs, gambling, sex, and cash? Forget it. Axel knew firsthand that that was not the truth behind it. It was more like a life of addiction without escape, losing thousands a day, blood on your hands, screaming in your ears at night, scars on your body and pure delusion. The law was never on your side either. It never could be once you joined. You didn't break omertà. That'd be fucking stupid. Sometimes, Axel saw society as a big family. The coppers were your parents. Soon as you got involved with this kind of shit, you were practically an orphan.

After hours of tossing and turning in bed that night, Axel came to the conclusion that he wasn't getting to sleep until he made up his mind about all this, and so he sat up reluctantly. Zexion, no doubt, had been chosen for his intelligence. But physical strength? He had none. Was Roberto fucking stupid? Then again, he supposed that if you were leading the gang, you didn't need to be the one getting your hands dirty. You had people watching your back twenty-four seven, and as long as you knew how to get the cash and evade the authorities effectively, then you'd be as good a leader as any.

Axel walked over to his desk, picking up a pack of cigarettes. He made his way over to the window, opening it and leaning out. He lit one and took a long drag on it, feeling the comfort it gave him. Another bad habit his father had gotten him into, along with having a callous disgregard for the suffering of any poor fucker who isn't you. He looked at his addictive friend and couldn't help feeling a little sick. Thanks to the education system, he just couldn't enjoy a smoke these days; every drag reminded him that he could get cancer, or cut another minute off his life, and in all honesty, he didn't think he gave two shits. The school had drummed it into his head that he did. Fuckers.

"Key question is," Axel murmured to the night air, blowing the smoke out in rings to amuse himself. "Will Zexion accept? Hell... Will he even give him the choice?" Axel's eyes slid over to his phone on the desk. He considered, though only briefly, calling Zexion and telling him who had been writing the letters all along, warning him of the mess he was going to get into if he accepted. He pushed that notion away. Blood was thicker than water, and besides, there was a good chance Roberto would shoot him dead if he ever found out what he had done. He wouldn't have been surprised if his phone was bugged anyhow.

Axel stubbed out his cigarette and chucked it out the window, leaning on one hand and idly stroking the tattoos his father's friend had given him, as he always did when he was deep in thought. He liked Zexion to a degree. The boy seemed interesting, to say the least, but he was not worth risking his neck for.

"Sorry, Zexion. Looks like you're on your own in this one," Axel closed his window and then got back into bed, a little more relaxed now, but his stomach was still tied into knots. The clock idly ticked in the background, like a sickening metronome, letting him know that Zexion's time as a free man was nearly up. Guilt gnawed at his throat, because now his time in chains was drawing to a close and for Zexion... For Zexion, this was only the beginning.


	10. Decisions

__

_**Decisions.  
**_  
'_Never cut a tree down in the wintertime. Never make a negative decision in the low time. Never make your most important decisions when you are in your worst moods. Wait. Be patient. The storm will pass. The spring will come_.'  
_-Robert H. Schuller._

* * *

And so that date came all too fast, not only for Zexion, but for Axel also. Out of Axel and Demyx, Zexion was the youngest. Axel stood back and watched in silent fear as the play began. He had been there when Roberto made the call. Zexion had been told to meet Roberto the day before his eighteenth down Acentdimnoon Road. No more letters had been sent before that. On Monday 21st Axel had had it confirmed. Zexion was to take over the gang which Axel had almost had forced upon him. He hadn't, however, heard Zexion's decision, and was now pacing like a caged tiger in his home, waiting for Roberto to get back in.

I stood down Acentdimnoon Road, my stomach filled with dead butterflies. Axel's promise to help me through this had come up empty, and now here I was, alone under the dark, heavy skies. I hoped it wouldn't rain. I sighed impatiently and checked my watch for the sixth time. He wasn't late. I was just early, eager to know who had been the one behind the letters and the murder of my uncle. My breath hitched when a car pulled up beside me. I couldn't have named it for you, but it was a nice car, flashy and expensive looking. A man stepped out of it, dressed in a suit. The first thing I had spotted was the gun in his pocket, but I didn't run. I needed to know who this was. Curiosity killed the cat rang through my head, but it echoed into silence. I couldn't think. I could barely breathe.

"Zexion... a pleasure," He held his hand out to me, and nervously I took it, shaking it firmly as I had been taught to by my father. First impressions were important, after all. I noticed how much harder he gripped my hand and how his seemed to be on top. I immediately knew who was dominant and I dropped my gaze submissively without even realising it.

"Hi," I whispered weakly and then cleared my throat, trying to straighten myself up and get the courage to look into his face. It took me about ten long, painful seconds of silence. He had dark eyes and dark hair. He wore a surprisingly warm smile as he looked down on me. He began to circle me and I felt unease building. I was reminded, strangely, of Antonio, with the sense of authority looming over me, though this man carried the oppressive feel that Axel did rather than the cheeriness of Demyx and his father.

"You've come a long way, Zexion," He told me, standing behind me, placing his hand on my shoulders. I spun around and my brow furrowed. I was almost shaking, almost. This man was intimidating, and my eyes kept flickering to the spot where I saw the glint of his gun. I was watching his hand in case he grabbed at it. I don't know what I was planning to do if he did; I would be as good as dead, but something in my mind told me I would be able to get away.

"Look, who are you?" I demanded in a tone that quivered on the final word. It felt wrong to demand anything of him, as if his presence had gagged me and I was struggling out the words from behind a thick pane of glass. He laughed and then stood in front of me, the act dropped.

"Listen, Zexion, that's no way to treat your fuckin' elders, and you're gonna show me some goddamn respect after the shit I've been through for you."

"You've been through for me? I didn't tell you to kill John, I didn't tell you to keep writing me letters or send pictures of me to everyone in the school," I spat instantly, and he laughed, ruffling my hair. I pushed his hand away angrily.

"Don't fucking touch me! How do you know so much about me?"

"Get in the car, Zexion," He ignored my question.

"How do you know?" He pulled the gun out and pointed it at my head. The skies opened up with a crack of lightening and the rumble of thunder, and for a moment, I thought he had fired, and I jolted violently. I was shaking and blushing in embarrassment as he realised what I thought and laughed at me.

"Go on, Kid, in the car," I weakly walked around the other side, and feeling as if I was signing my own death warrant, I placed my hand on the car door. The rain poured down on me, and I thought I might be appreciating my last moments. I got into the surprising warmth and comfort of the car, and he got in beside me. We closed our doors at the same time, and I closed my eyes tightly.

"If you're going to kill me, just do it already," I whispered, my voice shaking.

"I don't wanna be doin' that, Kid," He laughed and started the engine. I quickly did up my seatbelt and realised my own unwillingness to die. I had too many questions.

"How do you know so much?"

"Honestly, Kid, I'm an old friend of your Uncle's," He began driving. The low thrum of the engine felt deeply comforting. I pushed myself down into my seat and stared out at the road before me, but like a blind man, I saw nothing.

"Then why did you kill him?" I asked in an empty voice.

"Didn't do it personally, got one of ours to do it for some extra trainin'. He pulled it off pretty well, didn't he? Heard he hung him without any fuss. Good man."

"I didn't ask who. I said why."

"Because he was a fuckin' embarrassment, Zexion, and I was lookin' out for you."

"How'd you get the numbers?" I asked, now looking at my jeans and running my hands up and down my legs to warm myself up.

"Ah, Kid, you'll learn. We got people everywhere; that was fuckin' child's play."

"And who the fuck is 'we', exactly?" I demanded.

"Well that depends. Zexion, I've got a proposition for you," We turned off the road down a quieter one and I gripped my legs nervously.

"What's that?" I asked, trying to swallow. My mouth had gone dry.

"Zexion, my name's Roberto. I've been runnin' one of the biggest gangs around for nearly thirty years now, and we're pretty fuckin' successful. Have you ever heard 'bout us?" I shook my head slowly.

"Never..."

"Exactly." He grinned to himself, "Because we never get fuckin' caught! Unfortunately, as it goes, the life of a guy like me is kinda... fragile, shall we say? Need someone to take over, because once I piss the wrong person off, I could easily get taken out, and seein' as I've already pissed the wrong person off, it's very fuckin' likely that I'm gonna get taken out, you hear what I'm sayin', Kid?" He asked, looking over at me.

"...No, not really," I admitted.

"Kid, I need you to take over, which means you need a shitload of trainin', fuck knows you've already got the brains to be doin' it. There's a lot of cash in this kind of business, so I think you'll find it a step up from they way you're livin' now," He went down the drive of a huge house and my jaw dropped. I quickly closed my mouth and looked over at him.

"You live here?" I asked, his earlier words being pushed from my mind at the sight. He laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, that's right. Nice, eh? C'mon." I opened the door of the car and shut it, wandering awkwardly up to the house. I stood in front of the door, and then turned around to see Roberto, smiling again.

"What?"

"So, whaddya say, Kid? You in?"

"You're seriously expecting me to make that decision right now?"

"Yeah, I am actually, otherwise I've got fuck loads to do to try and find someone else as good as you to take over," He looked as if he thought flattery got him everywhere. I looked to the skies. The storm was leaving as quick as it had come. I finally shook my head, thinking about the future I had worked for. I had more potential than to be working for money that could only be taken through another's suffering.

"No. I'm out, sorry," I turned to walk off, wondering how I'd navigate my way home. My sense of direction was pretty good, I'd just go with that. A hand grabbed my wrist and suddenly I was pinned to the door.

"Let me rephrase that." Cold metal was pushed to my head and I closed my eyes slowly, trying to swallow again. "You're in, aren't you, Zexion?"

"I..." He clicked the gun off safety and I felt trapped again. I should have known that this guy would never have taken no for an answer. He hadn't done so before; why would he now?

"Aren't you, Zexion?" His voice was forceful, and I tentatively nodded.

"Yes... I'm in," He pulled the gun away from me and I didn't really see what happened to it. I felt like laughing. I was pushed through the door and I looked up at the red-head who was stood there, watching me intently. He must have heard everything. My eyes widened with shock.

"Axel." That's how he had known about the bruising. Fuck.

"Hey, Zexion," He gave me a sheepish smile a pained look came into my eyes. I had trusted him, and he'd been part of this?

"You done with him, Dad?" Axel asked, and Roberto nodded. I looked between the two, and I felt Axel grab my wrist and drag me upstairs to his room. He pulled me in and closed the door. I felt the sheets beneath me and recognised that I was on the bed. My eyes were glazed, and I felt Axel brush my hair away from one of them. I felt exposed, but it didn't seem to matter anymore. I wouldn't speak. I heard his voice, but the words fell on deaf ears. I zoned in and out intermittently for the rest of the night, only coming to my senses when I felt his hands beneath my shirt. My eyes snapped open and I jolted up, pushing him away.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I demanded.

"Undressing you for bed. I'm not going to lie, Zexion, you seem pretty out of it." He ignored my protests and took off my shirt, leaving my pale body on show in stark comparison to his tanned one. He took off his shirt as well, and for the first time I felt a flicker of envy when I eyed the faint shadows of the muscles in his stomach. I looked away from him, staring at the wall, letting him take off my jeans. I didn't feel anything, so long as he didn't touch my skin.

"You have to learn to trust me with your body; you're going to have to trust me with your life, after all."

"Axel, fuck off, just fuck off, I'm really not in the mood for this, if you're half as desperate as you're acting, why don't you piss off and go see Roxas? I'm not gay."

"Will you get the fuck over yourself? I wasn't tryin' to hit on you, Zexion, I was tellin' you the truth. You can't keep hidin' your vulnerabilities from me, 'cause in your first three years of work, I've gotta be workin' with you, you got it? We have to know each other as well as we know ourselves, because, fuckin' trust me, you're not going to be able to trust anyone else," He said firmly. He flicked the light off and my anger burned out quickly, but I could practically feel it radiating off him. I reached out and placed my hand on his arm, giving it a light tug, wanting him to face me. I didn't like not being able to see his eyes. For me, talking to someone without seeing their eyes is as good as talking to a corpse.

"What?" He spat, and I flinched.

"Face me," I mumbled tiredly. I wasn't sure how many hours had passed since I got here, but I knew now I just wanted to sleep. He did so, glaring at me in the darkness.

"Well?" He snarled.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, and then buried my head into his chest. Right then, it didn't matter what kind of person I was, nor what I had been through. I tell you now, all you want in that situation is to be held, because everything else feels so fucking unstable. If you were about to fall off a building, you'd grab any hand that offered to help, wouldn't you? It's kind of like that. I needed to know somebody was there for me.

I heard a small sound of surprise from him, and then I felt his arms wrap around me. He began to lightly caress my lower back. Situation overrides personality, I realised, and as much as me and Axel clashed sometimes, the fact we were both in this mess somehow brought us together. My own arms shifted around his neck, and I didn't stop him when he started kissing me. I couldn't feel shock right then; everything was brought down to a very basic level for me. All I knew was that touch was comfort. I kissed him back, my lips desperate against his. My hand shifted to his cheek, stroking it, wanting to prolong the feel of his lips on mine. I didn't know how he had lived in a life like this for so long.

"Zexion," He murmured huskily into my ear, and whatever carnal feelings I felt right then, I embraced them. It felt natural to do so. "I'll take care of you," He promised quietly, and then I felt his hands on my hips. I felt him move his own hips forward. I felt him grind against me. My stomach pooled with heat and I heard my own broken breathing against his chest. I pushed my hips back against his, finding pleasure in the friction and the warmth, in the security of the exchange. It went on like that a while, kissing and pushing closer to each other and swallowing each other's moans, and then it faded into nothing but the occasional, gentle kiss. I rolled over so I wasn't facing him, and I didn't experience any guilt, or any regret really. I was pleased though, that for one night, I had managed to escape John's influence. My skin didn't feel disgusting where Axel had touched me. On the contrary, really; I fell deeper into sleep that night than usual. I felt safe.


	11. No Strings Attached

_**No Strings Attached.**_

_'Without conditions or obligations; without a catch.'_

* * *

That morning we got up and dressed in a companionable silence, which sat well with me, as the last thing I wanted right then was voices and interaction. It made me tired, people made me tired. I wanted to get back to my room with all my books, all my wonderful books. I wanted all my stories to wrap me up and swallow me. I wanted to read every textbook I had. Why? Because when I learned, I felt like I had achieved something. I felt like I had bettered myself as a person, and even after hours of reading, I still felt excited and energised by the concepts presented to me, though of course my eyes didn't reflect that to others; the look faded when I got company.

"Axel, do you know if I can go back home today?" I asked idly, as I buttoned up my black shirt. He sighed and disappeared downstairs, presumably to ask Roberto for me. I turned to look in the mirror and I frowned. Lately, I had no control, everyone else was making all the moves for me and I'd become a side-character in my own life. I was just going to enjoy the next two weeks off school in peace. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I couldn't help smiling; there were no more nerves when I chose to read the text.

_'Happy 18th Birthday, Zexion! Come over later, I got you a present!_  
_LOTS OF BIRTHDAY HUGS AND KISSES_  
_Demyx x'_

Was I blushing? I looked up at the mirror. I certainly was. The corner of my mouth turned upwards and I slipped the phone back into my pocket. A shame really; Demyx had remembered it was my birthday before I had. He was a little angel really. I hope he never ended up in a life like this. I began to wonder what Demyx would become as I followed Axel's example and went downstairs. I saw him sprawled across the huge leather sofa, or rather, I saw his shock of hair rested at the end of it, facing away from me, watching a needlessly large television and rolled my eyes. I walked over to him and leaned over the top of it.

"So, can I go home?"

"Hell if I know; ask yourself!"

"Oh some good you are, he's _your_ dad," I argued, and he looked up at me, arching an eyebrow with evident irritation.

"You're interruptin' my show."

"I don't care ask him fo- AXEL!" He grabbed me and pulled me over the top of the sofa so I landed on top of him. I was surprised by his strength, and irritated by his actions. I struggled to get free, but he held my face against his stomach with one hand, idly turning the television up with the other to drown out my cries of protest. I was frustrated and I tried again to pull away, but I just ended up getting my hair pulled from the movement. Eventually, I resigned myself to my fate and stopped trying to escape, focusing instead on the fact his shirt had managed to do a disappearing act again.

"Didn't you get dressed?"

"Yeah but I put my shirt in the wash. I'm not fuckin' walkin' around in the same shirt for two days, Zexion, the fuck kinda person do you think I am?" My cheeks heated; I usually wore the same clothes for two days in a row. It saved money because it meant we didn't need to wash as much.

"Axel, I'm going home, if your Dad needs me, I'm sure he knows where I am..."

"Spoil sport," Axel responded, pushing me off the sofa. I landed with a grunt on the floor. I got up, trying to maintain my dignity, and then brushed myself down,

"Bye," I grumbled, heading to the front door. As I opened it, I felt Axel's hand on my shoulder and I turned to glance at him, raising my eyebrows.

"Hey, we're in this together now. T-O-G-E-T-H-E-R, got it memorised?" He tapped my temple and I rolled my eyes, walking off down the road. I knew he was referencing what had happened the night before, and I had no intention of talking about it ever again. Not that I regretted it, simply that it didn't really mean anything. "You're supposed to answer!" He shouted pointedly. When I didn't, I heard him cuss and slam the door. I couldn't help smirking.

When I got in, I began pulling my books out of my bag from the last day of school; we'd been given holiday homework, as usual. My parents had wished me a 'Happy Birthday' and then told me that they were going out for the day. My mother had left something wrapped neatly on my bed, but for now I was ignoring it. Homework came first. I sat down to do it, but questions about my sexuality kept flitting through my mind. After finishing the first three pieces, leaving only one, I let myself turn my attention to the computer, starting it up. I waited impatiently, and a few hours of blogs, psychology, and biography extracts later, I had a new perspective on it all. Experimentation suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world, and I realised what I had done didn't necessarily make me gay. It did, however, make me realise that more experimenting was in order, and that thought distressed me a little; who did I trust enough to get that close that wasn't Axel? I realised suddenly that I was more concerned about my sexuality than the fact that I was being pushed in charge of a gang. I laughed bitterly. I supposed it was because I wanted nothing to do with it, so I was trying to suppress the thoughts. I didn't really know. I didn't really care either.

It was the 29th of November, a Saturday. I was finally eighteen. I was a man, apparently. I didn't really feel any different than I had in the past few years though. I looked over to the bed and picked up the present my mother had left me, and I unwrapped it with care. When I saw what she had given me, my heart ached and nostalgia smothered me. It was a family portrait we had gotten done a few years before. She had put it in a beautiful frame, and I looked at my father's arm draped around me. At that moment, my phone vibrated and I set down the picture, giving it one more glance before picking up the phone. Demyx. I guiltily noted that I'd missed his eighteenth birthday, but we hadn't been friends at the time.

"Hello?"

"Zexy, it's five o'clock, aren't you coming over yet?"

"Five already?" I pulled my black curtains across, seeing it was pitch black outside.

"Yes, already! You're coming over now, Zexion."

"I am?"

"Yup, my Dad's just warming up the car 'cause there's snow all over it."

"Demyx!" I scolded, my eyes widening a little. For all he knew, I could have been spending the day with my family; I hadn't even sent him a text to confirm that I could come, after all, and he was putting his father out.

"What?" He asked, and then laughed, "C'mon Zexy, it'll be fun; you're meant to spend your birthday with your friends!" I hesitated now. Birthday's really didn't mean, well, anything to me, really. I stopped celebrating mine when I was about fourteen, and now it was just another day to me. I didn't particularly care about spending it with my friends. That seemed almost childish... then again, I supposed that about summed Demyx up.

"...I suppose... But Demyx, I didn't even say I could do this."

"You didn't need to. I'm your best friend, I can sense these things," I raised my eyebrow. We had been friends for what? Two months? I smirked at how he was already comfortable enough to say that he was that close to me so easily.

"Fine, I'll see you soon..." I hung up and smiled. I was in a strange mood now, one of interwoven happiness and nostalgia. I hoped Demyx could deal with me when I was like this; I knew most people couldn't.


	12. Adulthood

_**Adulthood.**_

_'Childhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age,_  
_The child is grown, and puts away childish things._  
_Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.'_  
_-Edna St. Vincent Millay._

* * *

Okay, so it was more fun than I expected. Antonio had driven me and Demyx to get drink, and then we had headed back to Demyx's. Despite my protests, Antonio ordered pizza for us, and the night passed in a blur. I didn't remember it much better in the morning either.

Demyx and I had drunk in his room, talked freely, laughed, and I vaguely remembered telling him how cute he looked when he smiled. I remember him telling me I looked better when I relaxed. I was sprawled across his bed, my brain functioning a fair degree slower than normal as I looked over at Demyx, who was trying to undress so he could get into bed. Surprisingly, I had no qualms about that; a part of me, strangely, wanted him to get into bed with me. I watched him topple over and I rolled over to stifle my laughter into the pillow. I was stupidly happy, and all nostalgia had been washed away in the first wave of Demyx.

"Zexy," He whispered, climbing on top of me. I rolled my eyes at him, and then laughed as he started losing his balance again. I grabbed his waist to steady him, and he gave me a grateful smile, resting his forehead against mine. My hands slipped down to his hips and I rubbed them gently, marvelling at how soft his skin was.

"Yes, Demyx?" I mumbled sleepily, and I noted how close his lips were to mine and got some kind of kick out of it. I tilted my chin up briefly and pecked him on the lips, keeping it quick enough to make it friendly. At least, I thought I did. It didn't really occur to me at the time that guys didn't kiss other guys on the lips to show friendship. I saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes and wondered if I did something wrong. The thought slipped away with every other coherent one I'd had that night.

"I hope you had a good birthday," He said quietly, and then ran a hand through my hair, supporting himself with one arm, which I couldn't help thinking was dangerous, given his current state. I looked at his lips again, seeing he was smirking. I smirked too, but I didn't really know why.

"I did, Demyx... Thank you..."

"You know," He whispered drunkenly into my ear, "I really like you, Zexion, for a guy, you're really _fit_," He told me, placing particular emphasis on the last word. My eyes widened momentarily. I laughed, shocked at his choice of words,

"Demyx!"

"What? You are!" He giggled and put his hand on my cheek. "I'm glad you had a good... I'm glad you had a good birthday, Zexion," He said with the utmost sincerity, looking into my eyes, but I couldn't help laughing still.

"You're so pissed," I whispered, and he grinned.

"Am not!" He pressed his lips to my ear and I wondered what he was doing. It took me a moment or two to realise that he was talking.

"Demyx, lean back a bit, I can't hear you," I said softly, and he did as I told him.

"I said, I really like you, Zexion. I love you, Zexion, you're my best friend."

"Love you too, Dem," I grinned and he looked at me, tilting his head.

"What?"

"This is so gay," I laughed softly. Demyx just smiled and flicked the light off. I felt his hand smooth over my cheek, and I closed my eyes, relaxed sufficiently by the drink. I felt him nearly fall, and I couldn't help laughing again. My sides ached from doing it so much.

"Dem, you might not want to turn the light out, you can't even walk straight with it on... you still have to get into bed properly yet..." I felt him throw the covers off of me. "What're you doing this time?" I asked, amused. Then I felt him tilt my chin up. I felt his hot breath on my lips. His soft, gentle lips met mine, and my hand moved to the back of his neck to stop him from pulling away too quickly. Our lips moved against each others, slowly at first, and then quickening as the passion built up, consuming us. His body rested against mine and I moved my legs apart so he could rest his hips down more comfortably. I wasn't sure why I was willing him to do more. He was a great kisser. This all felt good. So why not? I ran my hand down his back, enjoying the carnal rush that so rarely came to me. I put one hand on his boxers, caressing the back, and I felt him give a little shiver. Our kissing paused and he looked at me in the dark.

"You like me back?" He asked. His voice was so slurred that I couldn't help finding it comical.

"Yes Dem, I like you back," I laughed. I wasn't actually sure what I was agreeing to, but it was a bit late for worrying about that now. I felt his hips press more firmly against mine, and I felt _him_ against me. I gave a small jolt and I knew I couldn't go any further. Fucking John.

"Demyx, stop," I muttered shakily, pushing him away. He let himself fall to my side and I sat up to calm myself; I knew I wasn't in much of a better state than he had been. I staggered over to the window and opened it, leaning out to get some air. Demyx let me have my space for a while, but soon he made his way over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist.  
"Demyx," I protested half-heartedly. He planted gentle kisses over the back of my neck. I moaned softly, wanting more from him, but before I knew it, I had my space back. He had listened to my protest. I watched him slump back into bed, and five minutes later I was beside him, our arms wrapped around each other. We fell quickly and easily to sleep.

I was halfway home when it happened. My head hit the top of the door and I let out a pained cry as I was pulled into a car that had only just come to a stop beside me. We were driving down the road before I even got a chance to see who my captor was.

"Did I say you could fuckin' leave? I've been worried sick!" Roberto snarled at me, and I stared blankly at him, doing up my seatbelt. This guy was a lunatic.

"...Well I thought you'd know where I was,"

"What, and just come knockin' on your door and ask if you can come out to play with a grown man?" He asked snidely, and I winced, folding my arms.

"They weren't in anyway," I muttered. "Besides, why were you worried? You've only known me five minutes, Jesus Christ."

"Correction, you've only known me five minutes, in case you don't recall, I've been watching you for quite a while now," He responded and I looked out the fogged up window, sighing to myself. At least the car was warm.

"Fine," I conceded weakly, "You win. What do you want with me anyway?"

"You're doin' your first job today," He said with a malicious smile.

"What? I can't do that!" My heart beat faster. He must have been joking; they couldn't possibly expect that from me already.

"Yeah. You're gettin' someone we lost. Fuckers in another gang have got 'em... tryin' to beat information out of 'em or somethin'."

"I didn't even know there was another gang..." I sighed and rubbed my neck, looking out the window again. "Okay, what's my part in all of this then?" I asked, looking back over at him. We came to a stop outside his house and I gazed at it longingly. It must've been great to live like that.

"You're going to be watchin' over the patrols. We need you to watch them tonight and figure out where everyone is. Someone else will be sneakin' in and you'll have contact with them at all times. We've got access to the cameras already, all you have to do is work out the timin', got it? You'll need to be close to the building though. We can't get a decent communication link otherwise."

"Tell me you're joking," I begged. He shook his head and got out the car.

"It all starts at nine o'clock tonight; it'll be dark enough by then. If the guy you're talkin' to gets shot, run for it, because you're gonna be next. Don't worry though, it's some stupid kid that's just taken over, so this should be easy for you."

"How reassuring, thank you," I said bitterly. I wished I was scared, but I wasn't. Despite myself, I was excited. I wondered if this would be how it was in the books.

It wasn't. It was boring. Terribly so. Surprising, isn't it? But sitting around and saying 'stop' and 'go' in the back of a van, and watching it happen on the screen isn't particularly thrilling, especially when it seemed so painfully easy. There were serious gaps in their security, and there shouldn't have been. I had hoped it would be harder. I suppose that was why I got lazy, and suddenly, as we got closer to our target, the security was stepped up. I couldn't keep track of the timings, and we were backed into a corner. I talked quickly to tell him to get around the corner on the furthest right but the moment's hesitation was too much. One of the guys patrolling turned and shot instantly when his eyes found our man. He knew that there shouldn't have been anything there in the first place, and an alarm was instantly set off. I pulled out my headphones, trying to swallow back my guilt, and suddenly this felt less like a video game; I could still hear the alarm with my headphones off. I heard shooting and a cry of surprise from the guy at the front of the van. I knew already he had been taken out. I threw all the electronics off their stands as I had been instructed to, and then waited by the back of van until the gun fire stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was cut short when the door opened.

"Who the fuck are y-" I shoved them out the way and sprinted down the road turning around the corner, but I could hear footsteps suddenly after me, ones much lighter than that of the person who had come to the back of the van. I supposed they wanted to interrogate me, which is why they hadn't shot me dead already. I looked behind me and saw them closing in. I damned myself for being such a slow runner. With adrenaline still coursing through my veins, I was tackled roughly to the ground, and a gun was pushed against my head. I was forced over onto my back and held in place. The lamplight flooded over my features, but just made it harder to see theirs. I squinted, trying to see who now had me pinned down. There was a moment of silence between us, and then their grip slackened.

"Zexion?" He whispered. That familiar voice... no... it couldn't be...


	13. Unspoken

_**Unspoken.**_

_'As long as a word remains unspoken, you are its master; once you utter it, you are its slave.'_  
_-Solomon Ibn Gabirol._

* * *

"BOSS, you got him?" The shout from around the corner echoed around us. I shook my head, desperately and closed my eyes. I must have been wrong. The gun was pulled away from my head after a couple of seconds, and the man pointed away.

"Get out of here," He hissed at me. "Get out, get out _now_," fury lined his tone. I turned tail and ran down the road. I heard him shout that I had gotten away, and uncertainty was injected into my veins like a slow working poison.

It was three am and I had recounted the story over six times to Roberto now. I was tired and irritable. I heard him ask me again how one of his best men had ended up dead because of me, and I threw over one of their chairs uncharacteristically, furious at the accusation. The anger darted away into the unsettled waters of my emotions. I dwelled a moment on how their testosterone fuelled outbursts must have been contagious, but I was soon ripped into awareness, by a fist smashing into my stomach. I doubled over and cried out, panicking for a few moments when I couldn't breathe. I told myself I was winded, and I waited for it to pass. He pulled me upright by my shirt and slammed me against the wall, nose to nose with me.

"YOU FUCKIN' IDIOT!" He spat. So that was where Axel got it from. I wiped it from my face with evident disgust. He threw me onto the floor, enraged by my disrespect. I heard steps down the stairs and then another crash. I didn't want to look up, but it was like a car-crash; I found myself unable to look away either. Axel had shoved his father roughly away from me, sending him careening into the table, and snatched the gun from his hand. I hadn't even realised he was holding it. He was going to shoot me? An eye for an eye, I suppose...

"DAD! Fuck, DAD, just calm the fuck down, it was his first job, you've given him no fuckin' trainin', how was he supposed to know? Fuckin' hell!" Axel stood in front of me protectively.

"The stupid little fuck got him killed, Axel!" He snarled. "He shoulda been more fuckin' careful, especially as it was his first fuckin' job." I partially agreed with him there.

"Look, we knew they'd be steppin' up the security, we should have thought more about this before sendin' him there to practically pull off the job by himself, besides, I'm not fuckin' takin' over if you shoot him dead, got it?" Oh so that was why he was defending me. I smirked; it figured that Axel would never do anything that didn't benefit him directly. Roberto just cried out in anger and then stormed out. Axel helped me up, and I sighed softly.

"I really... I... I'm sorry, Ax-" He had shifted behind me and was feeling over my head for blood. When he was sure there was none, he lifted my shirt to see where his father had punched me. I realised vaguely that I'd never been hit by Roberto before, and I realised how much more it hurt than when Axel had. I wondered if I'd pass out but I never did. I lay down on Axel's bed with a severe head ache and closed my eyes. Sleep couldn't come fast enough.

"Watch, listen, learn," He had drummed it into my head and it became the soundtrack of my next two weeks, a sick kind of litany that programmed me and once again, removed me from a position of control. I sighed and drummed my fingers on the table. I hadn't asked Axel to confirm my fears about the current leader of the opposing gang; I simply didn't want to know.

"Alright, fine, watch, listen, learn, but listen to what? Watch what?" I demanded, sitting upright now, a little frustrated, and feeling as if I was running in circles with this. Axel seemed unwilling to speak. Whatever I was supposed to be doing, he didn't want to tell me.

"...Zex... You can't kill me for this. I didn't want it to be like this," He began at last, an apology underlying in his tone. I wondered what he had to apologise for and I leaned in with interest.

"Didn't want it to be like what?"

"...Zex... I know you're friends, but I guess I gotta tell you... Argh, man... Look. The other guy? The leader of the other gang? It's Demyx." My blood ran cold and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in and out. I hadn't wanted to know.

"Demyx..."

"Yeah, Demyx. Seein' as you're takin' over, you got a right to know who your enemy is, and he will fuckin' shoot you, Zexion, he's not half as fuckin' sweet as he makes out. You gotta spy on him for us, Zexion. Look, but don't touch, you hear? If he figures out you're working for us, we're screwed. We need you to get information on him, because it looks like he's taken over from Antonio already, so we don't know what to expect. Don't let him find out," He said slowly. I didn't know what to feel. Firstly, I was conflicted. Demyx already knew I worked for them, but I wasn't about to let them know just how badly I had really screwed up, otherwise I'd probably wind up at the bottom of a lake somewhere. I began drumming my fingers on the table again. Somehow though, I knew Demyx still trusted me. I suppose it seemed strange to say, but it was a kind of intuition, I supposed. Mostly because I still trusted him, and so expected him to do the same. Situations like this, surely, would not rule out our friendship, which, though I would not say it, had been tantalisingly close to reaching something beyond that.

"So I have to pretend like everything is fine, and give you enough information to potentially kill my best friend?" I asked bluntly. Axel beamed at me.

"Now you're gettin' it, Zex!" He stood up, slapped me twice on the back and disappeared back upstairs, no doubt expecting me to get straight to work. I sat in silence, watching the pendulum of their clock swing backwards and forwards as my mind twisted around the idea of doing that to Demyx. I looked down for a few moments, and then stood up. Soon after gathering what few belongings I had there, I left.

"Nngh, Dem, stop," I murmured while he bit and kissed my neck. Despite my words, I compliantly tilted my head back so that he could grace the sensitive skin under my ear with his gentle lips. When I had arrived, there was nobody home but him. He had pulled me into his house with a strange kind of urgency and then pushed me against the door. Before I had known it, he had unzipped my jeans and his hand was against the fabric of my boxers, stroking fervently until my thoughts of gangs and spying were lost like spare change in a broken pocket. The forceful, rushed nature of the ordeal, however, didn't agree with me, and I pushed him away before things could get any further. I zipped up my jeans with heated cheeks, and then looked into the watery pools that held the promise to quench my desire.

"Don'tcha like it?" He asked, leaning back. There was no way Demyx could be leading a gang, and there was absolutely no way he was the one who had pinned me to the floor only a few nights prior. Neither of us had said a thing about it, so perhaps it hadn't been him. Perhaps he didn't know who I worked for. His excited smile sent a rush through me, because I knew he wanted exactly what I did at that moment.

"It's not that, Demyx, I came to talk about our music... Our exam falls really soon after we get back. We need to start practising..." Demyx's smile vanished, and that shocked me; I had never seen him displeased at the thought of music.

"We'll start next week, Zexy, I've got too much on my plate right now." I smiled sympathetically at him. I didn't doubt it. Besides, it wasn't a question. I nodded and sighed.

"Alright..."

"I thought you might be here for your present; you forgot it last time..."

"The night we had wasn't the present?" I was surprised and I felt oddly guilty about receiving the gift. He laughed and shook his head before disappearing upstairs. I looked down at my jeans, a little distracted now by the unusual problem he had given me. I had never expected Demyx of all people to be so... well, forward.

"Here you go, Zexy." I jumped; I hadn't even heard him come back down. He was fast.

"Oh, um, thank you, Demyx," I opened it, preparing to act enthralled even if I hated it. Three books had been wrapped up and now I glanced through them, my eyebrows raising a little. One was a book on the world's most evil gangsters, another was a book of firsthand accounts from Mafia members, and the final one was full of interviews with serial killers. I realised that, without a word, Demyx was begging me to understand. The presents had been wrapped before the night of the shooting. Even if that hadn't been him that night, he had wanted me to know. My heart ached. I looked up at him and saw the mute plea in his eyes.

"Thanks, Demyx," I said with the false brightness I knew he was expecting. We were acting without an audience now. He smiled cheerily and the brief flash of truth faded, leaving me in the dark again. Did he know what I was doing?

"You're welcome, Zexy. I wasn't sure what you liked to read, but I'm sure you'll find these interesting. There are some pretty messed up stories in there though!" He laughed and then an awkward silence fell between us. I was surprised; it hadn't ever been like that with Demyx before. I suddenly felt as if I was walking on a mine field.

"So..." I said with a forced sense of humour in the word.

"Well, I guess I better let you go, you've probably got lots to do, don'tcha?" He opened the door for me and I nodded.

"I'll see you on Monday, Demyx," I stepped out the door.

"Yeah, bye, Zex!"

"Bye!" The door was closed behind me. I leaned back against the wooden divide, sighing deeply and closing my eyes. I was completely unaware of the boy on the other side, mirroring me. We had the same question clouding our mind, bringing with it a torrent of troubled thoughts. _'Why him?'_ After a moment's reflection, both stood up straighter with a mournful kind of clarity. _'Why us?'_


	14. Out of The Darkness

**_Out of The Darkness._**

_'Singing sad songs often has a way of healing a situation. It gets the hurt out in the open into the light, out of the darkness.'_  
_- Reba McEntire._

* * *

Ludovico Einaudi. 'Oltremare'. Possibly one of my favourite piano pieces of all time. I had it playing in my ears as I reclined in the bath, bubbles covering my chest as I inhaled the sickly sweet smell of cleanliness. I leaned forward and ran the hot tap again, unable to go five minutes without wanting more of the warmth to wrap me up. I turned it off and lay back, closing my eyes. In mid air, I traced my fingers over imaginary piano keys, remembering how I would play the song. Small water droplets fell from my fingers. The music was so beautiful. My mind let itself wander to the thought that we had the exam in a week. I closed my eyes sleepily. I was seeing Demyx tomorrow morning. I wanted a change of song. The early sections of 'Oltremare', especially around thirty seconds in, always reminded me of 'Behind Blue Eyes'. Another song I was fond of. I reached over lazily and text Demyx to suggest it to him before dropping my phone back on the bathroom floor.

I returned to my room, getting ready for bed, shivering from the cold. It was mid-December now. To me, it seemed pointless, but we had two weeks off, 'study leave', apparently, one week of exams, and then another two off for the Christmas Holidays. Whatever. Geek or not, I wasn't going to complain about getting a break. I hadn't really studied these holidays though; Roberto had taken up a lot of my time with lectures and supposed training which had actually just been him droning in my ear about how I could best exploit Demyx. I had zoned out and waited for it to be over; **_I_** had no intention of betraying him. I climbed into bed just as my phone vibrated in my pyjama pocket. I pulled it out to see his response.

_'Yes. Definitely yes, Zexion. That song is absolutely perfect, you don't even know how much I... just... this is a good song for me right now. Thanks Zex. You're always full of good ideas. See you tomorrow. Sweet dreams._  
_Demyx_  
_xx'_

I smiled. Full of good ideas? At least someone thought so. I lay back drowsily, my wet hair still clinging to the back of my neck. I was exhausted. This kind of sloppy behaviour wasn't usually my style, but... I didn't even have the energy to conjure up an explanation for myself. I fell asleep before I could do that.

_'What it's like to be hated,_  
_To be fated, to telling only lies.'_

I found those lines terribly apt for Demyx if his future was really as tragic and bleak as what it seemed to be – being caught up in gang life was far from fun. I told him I already knew the song on piano, which I did. He had his own sitar inputs, but for me, it was his voice, again, that blew me away. I closed my eyes when I played, just enjoying the sound of an A* piece. I smiled. Eventually, we packed away our music equipment, both agreeing that no more practise was needed. There was enough emotion in that song, as well as musical talent, to carry us both to full marks. He walked over to me with an empty smile. We held each other in a lie and touched our sinning lips together_._

"Demyx," I complained, burying my head in his shoulder. I felt constantly tired lately. Everything I cared about at school I had lost my passion for. I wasn't sure why. I did try to convince myself that I cared, but I was just going through the motions. There was this constant feeling of emptiness that lingered in me, and so far, Demyx's voice had been the only thing that had made a scratch on that.

"What's the matter, Zexy?" He asked. The false happiness was getting to be a strain on us both, I thought. I was starting to **_see_** the underlying pain in his voice when he spoke.

"Nothing, Dem..." He lifted me up and I lay limp in his arms until I was set on the bed. He lay beside me, stroking my hair.

"Didn't you sleep or something?" He asked with concern in his voice. I was so sick of these games.

"No, I slept." Yes, I'd slept twelve hours that night. I was still exhausted though, probably from the waking up about eight times in between. He kissed me and I wanted to tell him to fuck off. I was furious at him for not just saying it, because I knew it was slowly throwing up a wall between us. I knew I wouldn't be able to break it down once the construction was complete. I couldn't say it, so why wouldn't he? I hated not knowing where I stood with people. He didn't look at me when he spoke to me anymore. He looked **_through_** me.

"Then why do you look so tired?" He asked. I didn't know. I wasn't only physically tired, but I was mentally drained as well. My brain wouldn't connect and engage with anything. Every thought was like grabbing through a thick mist just to grasp helplessly at a few coherent words. I muttered inaudibly and just closed my eyes.

"Zexy, you can't fall asleep already, it's only one pm, come on," He complained. His words were apart from me now though. I was drifting away into a deep sleep. My manners and really rather compliant nature had got lost somewhere in the concrete wall. Maybe they were on the other side. That was my last thought before the blackness took me entirely into its depths.

I left when he was asleep and we didn't speak after that until the exam on Monday. It was last period, and I was glad the day was drawing to an end; it physically hurt to open my eyes now, and they burned when I blinked, because I so longed to keep them closed.

"Ready?" I poised my hands above the keys and I looked over to Demyx, who had been as equally quiet as me. I wondered which voice he would use for this, his beautiful, strong one, or the infantile tone that had begun to grate on me.

"Yeah. I'm ready." And so we began. I watched him when he sung; I knew the piano part off by heart, so I didn't need to look at the keys. I had never heard him sing as passionately, or with as much emotion as he did then. I saw his hand trembling slightly around the microphone as Demyx sung the words with powerful conviction. One part of the song put me off a little though, and my fingers almost slipped on the keys.

"No one knows what it's like to feel these feelings... Like I do... and I blame **_you_**," He looked right at me on those words and fear shot through me. He knew. That look told me all I needed to know. Somehow, he knew exactly what I had been doing that night, and he knew the role I was going to take on. I had never seen anger or hatred like that. It practically drowned me in his eyes until he looked away and I could breathe again. If looks could kill... I didn't look up at him again. _No one bites back as hard on their anger_... I suddenly believed that. Maybe Axel had been right. I really didn't realise what I was getting into by opposing Demyx.

At the end of the song, we made our way over to opposite ends of the room where we had seated ourselves, and then we left. I ran out as if he were hot on my heels. Trapped. My heart raced. My palms were sweating as I clutched desperately at my heavy bag. Roberto. I had to see Roberto. What the fuck had I gotten into?


	15. It's Personal

**_It's Personal._**

_'We fear violence less than our own feelings. Personal, private, solitary pain is more terrifying than what anyone else can inflict.'_  
_-Jim Morrison_

* * *

Christmas Eve. Even Roberto had spared me this one, and I was sat at home relaxing, thinking about Demyx. The exams had been harder this year, but I suppose I should've guessed they'd step it up a notch. It didn't occur to me that it was maybe just that I hadn't revised. I picked up my phone and toyed idly with it before checking the time. It was five o'clock. Our family didn't celebrate Christmas in a big way. We didn't decorate, just exchanged a few gifts in the morning and then went back to our daily routines. I did my Christmas shopping a few weeks earlier, and the two presents were neatly wrapped under the tree. A beautiful dress for my mother, and a new set of shirts and socks for my father. Nothing special really, but as I stated, we didn't really celebrate it. The anticipation that bit the frozen air seemed foreign to me.

I don't know why I did it really. My heart had been aching; I had missed him all day. I knocked on his door, shivering in the cold. Demyx. I had run by the music shop on the way there just to pick a present up for him. A new sitar. Now that had been expensive. Blue to match his eyes, and with strange patterns on it that I couldn't help admiring. I didn't really know anything about music, so I hoped that it would be adequate. It wasn't him who answered the door, but Antonio. I flinched instinctively and looked down. Demyx hadn't hurt me yet, but that wasn't to say Antonio wouldn't. I let my manners go ahead of me and speak for me so that I wouldn't just stand there awkwardly for the next hour.

"Is Demyx in?" I asked quietly. Antonio eyed the sitar I hadn't wrapped – there had been no time. He laughed gently. He wrapped an arm around me and ushered me in.

"Demyx is in the bath. Would you like me to wrap that up for you?" He asked and I slowly nodded, trying to gage his mood; Demyx would have told him, and so surely he too must want me dead. He saw me watching him as he took the sitar, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Something wrong?" He asked and I quickly shook my head, my cheeks burning.

"No, sorry, Sir."

"Antonio," He corrected softly, and then got the wrapping paper out, beginning to cover the present for me. I was still watching him despite my apology.

"Thank you," I muttered, referring to the present.

"You know, Zexion," He began, and there was something in his voice that let me know that the next words were not going to be casual chit-chat. "I'm not like Roberto," He said at last, tearing the sellotape with his teeth. I looked up at him and pushed my hands into my pockets, licking my lips slowly, not sure what to say to that. I just laughed awkwardly.

"No, seriously, Zexion." My laughing cut short and I realised he actually wanted some kind of a response from me.

"Why's that then?" I asked with a polite interest, trying to keep the mood light.

"I know when to separate work from day to day life," He looked over at me and gave me a warm smile. He stood up and walked over and I backed away instantly. I don't know why I thought he was going to do something; he'd just said that daily life was separate, but I didn't believe him. How could it be?

"Zexion," He sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair before leaning down and forcing me to make eye contact with him. How patronising, who the fuck did this guy think he was, super nanny? Even I knew I was getting defensive, and I tried to relax myself.

"What?" I asked a little too coldly.

"Zexion, you're a good kid. I don't want you getting involved in this. Taking over that group will be the worst mistake you ever make. Please, I'm telling you this because I care about you," I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Was he trying to manipulate me?

"Not to be rude, but you don't care about me, you don't know me."

"And that means I can't care about you, huh?" He asked, seeming amused by this.

"That's exactly what it means," I confirmed, thinking that would've been obvious.

"Zexion, it's called compassion. Something Roberto doesn't have. Come sit down with me," He invited, gesturing to the sofa. He went and sat on it, patting the space next to him. Instead, I sat opposite him, the coffee table and neatly wrapped sitar separating us.

"You can't persuade me otherwise, so you probably shouldn't try. It's not that I don't respect what you have to say, I mean, obviously you have more experience in this than me, but I don't really have a choice in this anyway."

"Zexion, you're a bright young man with an even brighter future, why would you want to throw all that away for a life of crime?"

"Well you don't seem that stupid, and you've done it," I pointed out. He laughed.

"That's not quite how it is. You see, when Demyx was born, his mother and I were very short on cash. We could barely afford to keep him." I looked around the luxurious house and I couldn't help doubting it.

"So what? You just hired a bunch of people to hurt others to get money?"

"Not quite. It's certainly not that simple for a start. I had to do a few degrading jobs myself so that I could get the money to hire others in the first place. It wasn't a pleasant experience, and I won't trouble you with the details. In short, I got the job so that I could give my son a better start in life than I ever had. I didn't quite predict that he would end up taking the business up. We don't hurt innocents anyway, we tend to target members of Roberto's gang, which is one of the reasons he hates us so much."

I nodded understandingly, and then sighed. This is what I had gotten into.

"Well how did Demyx end up caught up in this?"

"You see, Zexion, when Demyx was fifteen, he disappeared for a few weeks. I had to pay Roberto's group quite a large sum of money for his safe return, and Demyx demanded to know why it had happened. I don't lie to my son, so I told him. He deserved to know, as he had stated himself. He made the decision that he wanted to take over when he was eighteen, and as Roberto's son, Axel, was due to do the same; I couldn't see the harm in it. They would be equally inexperienced, and Demyx would be safe. Besides, they had made it clear that they were willing to hurt my boy, and so even leaving the country probably wouldn't save him. I taught him how to defend himself and he spent a long time learning the ways of our kind of people. Admittedly, his grades did suffer for that, and I don't think he ever really picked back up, but I digress. I got wind that Axel had different plans and Roberto was going to be in power a little longer, which unsettled me, but Demyx insisted on taking over as planned. I don't think he particularly enjoys the job, but it brings in good money, and I think he just likes to stay safe in all honesty."

"Couldn't you just provide him with safety?"

"Would you like to be followed around your whole life without any kind of privacy?"

"Well that's how I've felt for the past few months," I muttered bitterly, folding my arms.

"Exactly, and I doubt you liked it. Roberto was tailing you, we heard all about it. We didn't know who it was until a week ago or so. I've wanted an opportunity to clear the air with you, Zexion, because I was hoping that once you take over, should you choose to, you would work with us instead of against us. I don't want to be your enemy." I felt defensive again. I didn't know what to say or do, because I didn't know what I would be agreeing to. For the first time, I wished Roberto was there with me.

"I don't know. I'll think about it."

"Zexion. I know Demyx is your friend." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. "Possibly more than that. I may be getting old, but I'm not deaf. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you seem to have quite a thing for my son." My cheeks burned. Had I made it that obvious? It was weird hearing it out loud when I'd thrown it back and forwards so many times in my head without ever saying it to myself. I looked down.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, I suppose, you're a different generation to me, and I know it's... in vogue, shall I say, to be that way inclined, and if it makes you feel any better," He leaned over the table and rested his hand on my knee. I looked up at him. "I think he likes you too. He speaks very highly of you and he was distraught when he found out you were the one he was going to be targeting... Ah, speak of the devil!" He leaned back and smiled. I looked over to see Demyx leaning on the door frame, his cheeks a soft pink, like my own. His hair was wet and not yet styled. It was strange to see him without the mullet.

"Hey Zexy," He said with a small, shy smile. I wondered how long he had been stood there. Antonio stood up and my eyes met his briefly.

"If you ever need to talk, Zexion," He jotted down his number for me on a scrap piece of paper which was lying on the coffee table, and then handed it to me. "Don't hesitate to call. You're a good kid; I don't want to see anything bad happen to you," He held out his hand and I shook it firmly. Antonio smiled at me and then disappeared upstairs.

"So that's it, right?" Demyx asked, looking at me. I couldn't help laughing. It was a huge weight off my chest to be able to be completely honest with them... well, apart from the spying part. It was just the Roberto and Axel part of my life that seemed like an issue now. That was one good thing about this whole ordeal - it put everything into perspective. Though, admittedly, I did still get irritated by the little things, like not getting my homework done by a certain time.

"I guess so..." I walked over to him, wrapped his arms around his neck, and then kissed him, softly and slowly. "I got you a present," I gestured to the gift on the table. "But you can't open it until tomorrow, so call me to let me know what you think..."

"Zexion..." He rested his forehead against mine. "You shouldn't have. That's so sweet of you... I'm sorry about all this, y'know... I didn't ever want us to be enemies... just sucks that of all people he had to pick you because you're so damn clever," He kissed me again and I returned it with a gentle warmth spreading through me. His eyes flickered down over my body and I blushed. I couldn't help thinking he looked cute even though he hadn't done anything to make himself look presentable. Natural beauty. I loved it.

"Hey, Demyx?" I asked, acting on impulse.

"Mmhmm?"

"Will you go out with me?" My heart was in my throat. I wanted to make it official, and I was frightened he would say no. There was a moment of silence, and then I saw him grin.

"Of course, silly! We're practically going out already anyway," He was kissing my neck now, his voice somewhat muffled by my skin. I sighed happily and relaxed.

It was ten to twelve before I even thought about going home. Demyx and I were cuddling on his bed, shirtless and kissing softly, talking in between and just enjoying each other's company. The thought of working with him was becoming steadily more appealing. It reached midnight with the faint chime of one of his clocks downstairs. I stared deep into his eyes and smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Demy," I whispered the new nickname and he laughed softly.

"Merry Christmas, Zexy..." There were a few moments of silence between us, and then my hands had found his belt, undoing it. He didn't seem surprised; an unspoken agreement had passed between us. We were ready. We undressed each other carefully, lips touching and hands caressing, holding. I made love for the first time that night. I'd had sex before, I'd been 'done' before, but I'd never made love. It was amazing, not because of the way it felt, but because it was him. He fell asleep in my arms that night. And me? Well... I fell in love.


	16. Blind

**_Blind._**

_'Afflicted by love's madness all are blind.'_  
_-Sextus Propertius._

**

* * *

**

A week had passed and finally my orders couldn't be put on hiatus any longer. I'd followed him to God knows where, and I was still about ten metres behind him. The town was quieter than most, and due to the general illusion of 'conformity equals safety', Demyx's mullet was easy to pick out. It was strange to me that I was now spying on my lover. I felt like a paranoid other who checks their spouse's chats religiously on Facebook. Axel was ringing me practically every twenty minutes, not trusting me with this since the last incident, despite the fact that this was distinctly easier. I'd been following him for the last two hours, and now I was bored; he didn't seem to be doing anything of interest. I felt the vibrating in my back pocket and gave an exasperated sigh, answering it.

"Yes?"

"Yo, Zexion. Anythin' happened yet?"

"Axel, if anything had happened, don't you think I'd call you?"

"I was just checkin' you weren't dead, relax!" He laughed cockily and I rolled my eyes.

"Well, I'm still alive, and he is doing nothing, so can I ditch this yet?" I asked and Axel groaned.

"Watch, listen, learn, if you're not learnin', you're not workin' hard enough," Axel droned.

"That's such crap," I protested. "He's doing nothing, he probably just wants to go on a walk, he's going nowhere, Axel," I insisted.

"Yeah well, we say otherwise."

"Why aren't you here with me anyway? I thought you were 'working with me for the first three years'," I pointed out, a little irked that I was now stuck, following Demyx for no particular reason, and by myself nonetheless.

"Uh... Yeah, 'bout that. I got a date today."

"So what?"

"So I'm gettin' ready for it. Duh."

"Who with?" I asked with only the slightest interest. In my head, I bet it was Roxas. Maybe he'd finally come out of the closet.

"Not tellin'. Get back to work. If you don't come back with somethin', Dad's gonna be pissed." He hung up on me and I frowned at the phone, looking at the infuriating 'Call Ended' written across the screen. Typical, the man was finally saying something of interest, and that was the time he chose to hang up. I sighed and then looked back up at the mullet which was turning down an alleyway. I picked up the pace and hurried after him, cussing inwardly when I rounded the corner and saw Demyx pinned to the wall. I pulled back swiftly.

"Just hand over your money and maybe you'll get out of here with your life." The middle-aged man pushed a blade to Demyx's throat.

"Hey, hey, easy," Demyx encouraged nervously, "I haven't got anything with me," He said apologetically, his voice rushed. I stood, peering around the corner, eyes fixed on the blade.

"Then you've seen too much," The man insisted, wild eyes flicking around rapidly. I considered various ridiculous things, even that it might be a play, or that they might be old friends. Maybe it was a practical joke? I didn't want to believe that my boyfriend was less than an inch from death. I saw Demyx's eyes search for an escape route, and when he found none he looked up helplessly to where his hands were being held together in a vice grip by the other man. The mugger pulled back his arm, about to strike. Demyx closed his eyes tightly.

Time slowed down.

What was I meant to do? Intervening would mean me being seen. Being seen would mean questions. Questions I couldn't answer. Questions that could lead to Demyx knowing that I had been following Roberto's orders. If I didn't intervene, it could lead to Demyx's death. There was no time for hesitation like this. I'd just have to play it by ear. I ran forward, not giving much thought for my own safety, and slammed into the older, bigger man. I was thankful I had the element of surprise on my side, and I landed on top of him messily on the floor. I could smell alcohol and smoke on his breath. The knife spun out of his hand across the floor and I struggled to keep him down, my hands shaking as I attempted to pin down his arms. He threw me off and I struggled to get up and see what was happening. I could hear him grunting as he too tried to stand. I slipped on the ice that was still on the ground and fell into the wall. There was a stifled cry from beside me. I looked over and I couldn't believe what I saw. Demyx, eyes steely blue, face relaxed, calm, was supporting the man, holding him around the waist with one arm, the hand of which was clutching something I couldn't quite see. His other hand was over the man's mouth as he choked and his wide eyes grew dull and lifeless. Demyx let him drop from to the floor and I saw a gash across his neck. I realised what Demyx had been holding. The knife. Demyx slipped the weapon into his back pocket and I looked at the man who I knew was dead. Demyx had killed him. Demyx had killed... Demyx had... What?

In retrospect, I suppose by then I hadn't really thought it through. Demyx was a killer. So was Axel, so was Roberto. The shocking thing about the scene was that I had just seen the gentle boy change into a killer within seconds. The most frightening part? There had been no change at all.

"D-Demyx, you've... you've killed him," I stammered. He looked at me coldly,

"Zexion, why were you following me?"

"I wasn't, I was just-"

"I'm not stupid, you've been following me for at least an hour. I saw you ages ago, drop it. What the hell, Zexion?" He demanded, and I would've answered if only I could've taken my eyes from the body.

"What are we going to do with that?" I asked. Demyx shrugged nonchalantly.

"Look at his clothes. He won't be missed. Nobody's looking out for him. We'll just go to a pig farm. Easy body disposal, that's where me and dad usually go to get rid of them. Body's gone within an hour," He informed me. I was disgusted. This was a life, this was a person, this was-

"It's a tramp, Zexion, and he was going to kill you or me. I didn't have a choice... C'mon," He grabbed the body off the floor and hailed a cab. He got in with his bright smile and his innocent eyes.

"Sorry about this," He told the driver, pulling the body along next to him. The cab driver ignored him, not really caring what he was apologising for. "He's completely wasted, but hey, I guess there's nothing better to do around here, right?" He joked and the driver just grunted in response. I got in beside him, and then shuffled closer to the door, not wanting to sit next to the corpse that Demyx had sat between us. He gave the driver the address and we were soon on our way.

Within an hour, as Demyx had said, all traces of the crime were gone. There was no CCTV down an alleyway, and nobody would look for him. The corpse was now in the bodies of pigs. It was really that simple. I couldn't believe it. I guess that was the way the normal world intended it to look - extremely complicated so that nobody would attempt it. Demyx walked along next to me in silence, and then, at last,

"I can't just let you get away with this."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Zexion. It doesn't work like that," I could tell by his voice that he was straining not to show emotion. The forced calm was evident despite all his practise. "I have to tell my father. He'll do what needs to be done." My eyes widened.

"Dem-"

"I have to. Don't argue, it'll just make things harder for both of us. Take it, be a man about it," He demanded, and I winced. "You've shown where your loyalties lie, Zexion..."

"Please, Demyx," I begged, grabbing his hand. I saw a flicker of sadness over his face as he pulled it away.

"Don't."

"Demyx, I still care about you, I still lo-"

"Don't say it! Don't say it because you don't fucking mean it!" He shouted and I shook my head. I did love him, I knew I did. This gang life was all just a game to me, and now it was having serious consequences. To me it was surreal, but for Demyx it was a matter of life or death. I realised for the first time that I had more control than he did. He was a puppet too, controlled by a cruel occupation. My heart sank as I realised what I'd done. I'd slept with him and then betrayed him. He'd never believe me now. Trust that had taken so long to build between us was shattered. Begging wouldn't bring it back. The beginnings of heartache crept upon me. I'd just lost control of my relationship with Demyx.

"Dem, Dem, please, please don't do this to me," I grabbed him by the shoulders and he looked at me pityingly. I never expected to get that look from him. His next statement sent a rush of negative emotions to my heart and head.

"Zexion, stop - you're making a fool of yourself." Embarrassment, guilt, pain, grief.

I let go.


	17. Sanctuary

**_Sanctuary._**

_'There is no sanctuary of virtue like home.'_  
_Edward Everett._

* * *

He walked me to the door. Do you remember that feeling, when you were only small and you were lead to the head teacher's office for doing something bad? The gentle shaking, the threat of tears, the knots in your stomach... This experience, for me, was something like that. Demyx saw the mess I was in and impatiently knocked on the door again. I thought I was going to be sick. Maybe he'd kill me. Maybe this was it. All I'd worked for was a waste.

"Ah, Demyx, Zexi – What's wrong?" I heard his deep voice and I lowered my head. Demyx shoved past him and began walking upstairs.

"He did it, Dad." Demyx called out. "He picked his side. I thought I'd make it easy and bring him to you. It's quicker this way, isn't it? To kill him I mean." I froze, as did my breath. Silent tears ran down my cheeks. How had it come to this? It had begun so childish with pictures of me cheating on a high school fling. Now I was on the doorstep of the man who, from what Demyx had said, was going to kill me.

"Enough of that, Demyx," Antonio sighed warily, and then took me by the wrist, surprisingly gently, and pulled me in before closing the door. "Zexion, what have you done?" He asked, forcing me to sit down on the sofa before taking his place opposite me. I looked down at the coffee table, preferring to stay hidden behind my hair. I couldn't look at him.

"Zexion," I heard him shuffling and I saw a gun being drawn. I pushed myself back against the sofa and shook my head,

"Please, please don't," I whispered. The gun was placed on the centre of the table. He was trying to show he meant no harm, I supposed.

"I couldn't shoot you if I wanted to. Roberto would make us pay for it, blood for blood and all," He rubbed his temples and sighed. "I'm sorry to do this to you, Zexion. I'll talk to Demyx for you and try to smooth things over, but after that, you are no longer a welcome guest in my house," He told me firmly and I looked up. Why did that hurt more than what I had been expecting?

"Please, can't you just beat me up? I won't tell anyone who did it," I pleaded suddenly, shocked out of my careful silence. This house had become my sanctuary, and now I could never come back? Antonio shook his head.

"You're never to come here again after today. That's final." He stated simply, and then stood up. "I didn't want you as an enemy, Zexion, so I'm sorry it has turned out this way, and I do wish you all the best in future. Perhaps when you take over properly, you and Demyx can do some negotiating, eh?" He offered, and then walked upstairs. I was left alone for only a few moments, but it was long enough for me to feel the familiar essence of solitude consuming me from the inside.

"Demyx, apologise for what you said, you needn't have scared him like that," Antonio ordered. Demyx sat down beside me, but he refused to meet my gaze.

"I'm sorry, Zexion," He spat. Antonio gave me an apologetic look.

"Sorry for what?" Antonio pushed on.

"I'm sorry that you didn't care enough about me not to run around after Roberto. I'm sorry I don't mean enough to you that you would reject the work. I'm sorry you don't trust me enough to tell me what you had to do, because we could have just faked it and you'd have been okay. I'm sorry that we... I'm sorry for what we did." I knew what he meant. I didn't want to hear that. It was the last thing I wanted to hear. Demyx was sorry we'd slept together, but he didn't want to say so in front of his father. I looked into his eyes. It was my turn to beg him to understand.

"Demyx, apologise properly," Antonio said softly, though it was clear to me that he disliked seeing his son in this amount of pain.

"I'm sorry I scared you, Zexion... I knew you wouldn't be hurt... I'm sorry..."

"Demyx... I'm sorry. For everything." Silenced passed between us, and even Antonio didn't seem to know what to say. I ventured forward, licking my lips hesitantly. "I... I love you..." In front of his father too. I didn't know when I had gotten so bold.

"...I'll talk to you at school," with clenched fists, Demyx rose and walked back to his room, slamming the door shut. I looked to Antonio who shook his head.

"I think you better go," He informed me, walking to the door and opening it.

"Goodbye, Antonio," I struggled out, my throat tight as I tried to 'be a man about it'.

"Goodbye, Zexion. Good luck," He shut the door on me for the last time. I wanted to sink into the ground and fall into another world where things weren't quite like this. Maybe in another world, my mind would have made me part of a group whose aims were something different to this. Something not quite so superficial. Something special. Maybe they would be like a family to me. My pessimistic side kicked in with a vengeance. And, like all families, maybe they would eventually fall apart. Maybe I would too. Maybe.

I walked aimlessly around town for hours, the cold air being the only thing to really bother me. My mind was blank, but I was determined to make it spring to life again. I had nowhere to run to anymore. Nobody to talk to. Alone, but not lonely. Start as you mean to go on, they say. I had made an awful start to twenty eleven. I sat down on a wooden bench, my feet aching from however long I had been walking. At least three hours, I presumed.

I had only been sitting there ten minutes when an older man sat down beside me. I noted carefully that he was a little too close, but I said nothing until he moved closer and started looking at me intently, as if he were waiting for me to speak.

"...Can I help you?" I asked hesitantly, trying to smile at the stranger. The man was strange looking.

"I was going to ask the same question. You okay there, little dude? You look down," California, definitely. Weird tourist.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," I said and then cleared my throat awkwardly, hoping he'd leave me alone.

"As if! You look like someone's just died. C'mon, helps to talk, what's up, Tiger?" He asked and I only just stopped myself giving him a dirty look. The man looked as if he was in his late forties, and wore an eye patch over one eye. I wondered if he was on his way to a fancy dress party.

"Nothing's wrong, sorry, I really have to go."

"Cool, I'll come with you," He insisted, standing up and following me. My heart rate started rising now. Rapist? Paedophile? Stalker? Murderer?

"Oh," I had nothing more to say as he fell into step beside me. I'd had enough of things like this for one day.

"Name's Xigbar. Nice to meet you," He said, slapping his hand on my back too roughly. I grunted quietly in pain and he laughed. "Gonna give me a name, Tiger?"

"It's Zexion," I muttered. I didn't think to lie. It seemed pointless – it was only a name, after all.

"Oh really? Zexion? Can I call you Zexy?" Xigbar asked and I shrugged.

"Yes, sure, I suppose..."

"So tell me what's up." The town centre I had managed to end up at was buzzing with people, and finally I was grateful for that. I made a mental note not to go anywhere secluded while the skunk-haired man was still following me.

"I just messed something up, that's all."

"What kind of something?" He pressed on, grinning from ear to ear now.

"Well..." I wanted to tell him it was none of his business, but that felt rude. Who's rude to a stranger, honestly? We're politer to them than we are our own friends and family... "It was just something with my friend."

"Oh yeah? What happened? You sleep with his chick?" Xigbar asked knowingly and my brow furrowed.

"No, I didn't sleep with his girlfriend. I just betrayed him."

"Oh yeah? How?" I really wished he would leave, but then again... I'd be alone again, wouldn't I? If he left... maybe having him around wasn't so bad. Maybe it would open new doors for me and I wouldn't be as trapped as I felt now. I looked over at the man, silently admiring the strange colour of his eyes. I assumed they were contact lenses. There was something very open and relaxed about this man. Maybe I could talk to him. Maybe.

"Well I have this other friend who doesn't like him very much and I sided with him in an argument," I admitted, changing the story. At the back of my mind, I wondered what Xigbar wanted out of me.

"Oh yeah? Well who was right?"

"Well... neither of them really," I said slowly, looking down.

"So why didn't you tell them that?"

"Because one of them is really persuasive, and the other one I really like," I told him, pushing my hands into my pockets and looking down.

"But do you know what's right?" Xigbar asked. I felt him place his hand on my back and grew unsettled, unaware that it was supposed to be a comforting gesture.

"..." I considered his question. Did I know? I suppose the right answer was get a job, a normal one, but they lacked the intellect for that, and in times like these, there weren't many jobs available, even if they did have a list of qualifications to present at an interview. Grudges would be bared by those who didn't do the same, and blood would probably be shed. I looked down despairingly. No, I didn't know.

"I guess not then... alright, Kiddo, how about this?" He asked, stepping in front of me. I looked up at him distrusting him already.

"What?" I asked nervously.

"You give me your number, Kid. I'm kinda headed somewhere at the moment, but I'd like to talk this out with you," He said and then smiled. "What do you think?" My heart sank. Was this old guy trying to hit on me? He must have been; what motivation did he have for trying to help?

"I don't know my number, sorry," I apologised, not really meaning it. Of course I knew my own number. He frowned at that, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Alright... Okay, dude, how about this, I give you my number, and you call me?" He offered, taking my hand before I had a chance to answer. I nodded, pretending to be enthused.

"Yeah, thanks, that sounds great," He pulled a pen out his back pocket and wrote it on my skin roughly, going over it a few times. Inside, I was irritated by that; I liked to keep clean, and that looked like it would be difficult to scrub off. He let go of my hand and then grinned,

"Catch you later, Zexion," He said cheerily, and then sprinted off down the street. I half-envied his confidence, but I shook my head. The guy was clearly some old pervert, but it had at least stroked my ego, and I was flattered... sort of. With a small smile, I turned around and headed home.

That night, I was finishing off the last of my holiday homework and trying not to think about Demyx. I looked at my hand couldn't help smiling. That had been, without a doubt, the highlight of my day, but I suppose that wasn't hard. Maybe I would call him. Maybe he would help me through this. Maybe there was more out there for me than a life controlled by crime and threats. Xigbar... Maybe he was my key out of this. Yes. Maybe.


	18. Change

**_Change._**

_'All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.'_  
_-Anatole France._

* * *

Sleeping was impossible. That pain in my chest... Demyx, Demyx, Demyx. I wished that my brain would shut up and do something productive. I wanted to pluck my heart out of my chest and give it to someone else to deal with. Eventually, I abandoned the idea of sleep and called Demyx, not thinking of the time, nor considering that he might be sleeping.

"Demyx," I whispered softly into the darkness when I heard him pick up. "Demyx, I need to ask you something." He didn't respond, but I knew he was listening. "Demyx, are you still... are we still going out?" I asked hesitantly. It seemed stupid, but I had never had a real answer for that. One argument didn't mean that we were over, right?

"Zexion?"

"Yes?" I asked, my heart doing an involuntary leap at the sound of his voice.

"It's four am. Piss off." He hung up on me and I held the phone to my ear even after I knew he was gone. My shoulders sagged, but I carried on clutching the phone.

"I miss you, Demyx," I whispered into the darkness, hoping he could hear me somehow. "...And I love you. I love you and I wish you knew how sorry I was. You're everything to me, Dem." It needed saying. A tear rolled down my cheek and I dropped my phone to the floor, curling up tightly and clutching my pillow. Demyx, Demyx, Demyx. I wished my brain would do something productive... like find a way to bring him back to me.

I sat down in English class and breathed out a slow, shaky sigh. At least the teacher wasn't there yet. Roxas looked at me and awkwardly reached over to pat my back. I jolted and glared at him through blurred eyes, only to be met by his nervous smile. I looked down again and allowed my eyes to skim over the red carpets that spanned the room and met the white walls which were coated with educational posters about Shakespeare on the right hand side. Alternatively on the left there were posters designed to motivate with phrases like 'Listen has the same letters as silent.' and 'Success only comes before work in the dictionary.' each of which brought a familiar sense of reluctant acceptance yes we were in school, and yes we would agree blindly with anything they pushed in front of us here.

"Goooood morning~" He said in a sing-song voice. He was attempting to lighten my dark mood, but he wasn't doing very well.

"Sorry, Roxas, I really can't deal with your... I really can't deal with _you_ right now. Can you leave me be?" I snapped. My eyes lifted to his and I felt suddenly as if I had kicked a puppy. I buried my head in my hands.

"Geez, Zexion, why you always gotta be so down?" He asked and I turned to look at him with narrowed eyes.

"Why? Roxas, I swear to God... I have just lost my best friend, you stupid, blond, FUCK," I shouted with fury shooting through my veins. Before I could go any further, a hand covered my mouth.

"Tsk, Zexion, you know the rules, no cussing in class," His voice was irritatingly friendly. It soothed me, though I couldn't put my finger on why. I pulled my lips away from the hand of the boy who was friends with everyone. Sora took his seat on the other side of me, and then looked over at his brother.

"How're things going with Axel?" He asked Roxas brightly and I straightened up, taking an interest.

"You're dating Axel?" I asked and Roxas just frowned at me without giving me an answer. I didn't realise what he wanted for a few moments until Sora nudged my arm.

"Come on, Zexion, apologise to Roxas." I rolled my eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

"Fine," I conceded, "I am sorry for what I said. I should not be taking out my moods on other people, especially you when you haven't done anything wrong." It reminded me of being forced to apologise by the ratty dinner ladies at lunch when I was young, but I wanted to know. If Axel was happier, maybe he'd do more of his work, which meant I, at least, would get a break from opposing Antonio. Maybe I could still fix things. Sora gave me a pat on the back by way of what I could only assume was a reward for doing as I was told. I smirked to myself. Sora's childish nature reminded me of Dem- I winced and shook my head. It hurt to think about.

"Yeah, I'm dating Axel," Roxas sounded less than happy to be admitting to it, but I supposed if he had only just come out, then that was to be expected.

"...You did well," I said suddenly. "He's a good man, he'll look after you..."

"That's awful kind, especially from you, Zexion..." Roxas commented. I could tell he was surprised by my kindness and I felt ashamed – was I usually that much of a grouch?

So at least that was the ice broken between Roxas and I. We conversed throughout the class. I tried my best to stay engaged, but I wasn't really there. The teacher was yelling at an empty chair really. We received our grades for the pieces we had done over Christmas at the end of the class.

"What the hell do you mean I got a B?" I sneered at the paper, looking at the mark, the blemish, with disgust.

"I'm sorry, Zexion, this just wasn't up to your usual standard... I know Christmas is a busy time, but everyone else managed to put the time aside, and you should've done the same. I can tell this is rushed, Zexion, what on Earth were you doing the whole time?" My eyes stung with angry tears and I wanted to punch the woman in front of me.

"Fine," I muttered, anger burning in my tone. So now this was affecting my grades. Great. Fine. Whatever. Screw her. I pushed the essay in a crumpled ball into my pocket and stormed out. What a horrible start to the day.

I ended up at his. All my holiday homework had been given low marks, so I called him because I was in one of those moods where you really feel like nothing else can go wrong. One phone call later and I had his address, one bus ride later and I was there. It wasn't an unpleasant house, but it wasn't a touch on Roberto's.

"Hey, Dude," He welcomed me with a grin. I just slipped under his arm and walked into his living room to lie down. "Uh... make yourself at home?" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and then shut the door.

"Sorry for the short notice... I just can't go home right now," I murmured into the surprisingly comfortable cushions. He sat on an armchair to the left of me and I looked up at him. Really? The eye patch still? I wondered what had happened.

"That's alright, Kid, I appreciate the company. I've just been in all day; I'm waiting for a call."

"About what?"

"I applied for a job at the local university."

"Oh... well, good luck..." My life seemed so empty without Demyx. Despite his promise to talk to me at school, I had heard nothing from him. Now I was exchanging idle chit-chat with a perfect stranger. Great. Fine. Whatever. Screw him.

"So did you make up with your friend?"

"Who? Wha- Oh, yeah, no, I didn't."

"Thought of a solution?"

"No, there isn't one, unless they just move away from each other and leave each other the hell alone, which they probably won't do."

"Maybe you could get them to? Or at least get one to. Ask the one who cares about you most to leave the other," Xigbar suggested, idly leaning over to rummage through his cabinet before producing a bottle of whiskey. Oh God, the old pervert wasn't going to try to get me pissed, was he? He had high hopes; even drunk I wouldn't sleep with him. Still, his ideas weren't so bad... If I could get Roberto to move territory, maybe none of this would be an issue. Now Antonio had enough people, he could have free run of the area, maybe just target criminals or something to satiate his need to be the good guy.

"I guess... I don't know, really," I watched him pour me a glass and push it in front of me. I wasn't big on drinking, but I sipped it to be polite, hating the terrible burn in my throat. I tried my best to stop myself cringing, feeling inferior for not being able to handle my drink. I glanced up to make sure he hadn't seen my initial reaction. Not a chance. He was too busy swigging from bottle. I hoped he wasn't the violent type.

"...Xigbar?" I asked slowly, trying to think this over. "If you were in this situation, would you move just to stop the conflict for my sake, or would you need a better reason to?"

"Not to be an asshole, Tiger, but I'd need something that was good for me, not just you. Why, your friend the selfish type?" He asked, and I nodded slowly. He gave a bark-like laugh and I jumped. "A man after my own heart. Why so skittish, Kid?" He asked and I shrugged. I still had to deal with Roberto today; he wanted a report on all I had found out about Demyx, which was fuck all. It was putting me on edge.

I left Roberto's feeling very sore and bruised from the beating, but that didn't matter right then. I wound up back in my room, sitting down and pulling out a scrap of paper. I felt like I was trying to accomplish the impossible. How, honestly, would I persuade Roberto to move out of the area and let me stay? I began jotting down ideas in the comforting silence which daren't press its fingers on my wounds.

_'Aim: Make Roberto move away from here and let me stay._  
_Method: Give him a reason to leave, a good one that will benefit him._'

I paused and touched my pen to my lips. What motivated that man? Money, greed, desire. If I could promise him a place with less competition and more opportunities to gain all of that, then he would probably move to it in a heartbeat.

_'Aim 1: Make Roberto move away from here and let me stay._  
_Method: Give him a reason to leave, a good one that will benefit him. Money, greed, desire. Research places on the internet._  
_Obstacles: I'll have no way of telling if there are other gangs there._  
_Solution: I'll just have to hope. I know he has more bases outside this area; it's just the main area that needs moving._

_Aim 2: Make him let me stay._  
_Obstacles: He wants me to take over._  
_Solution: I'll offer to keep an eye on Demyx and Antonio. I might not like betraying them, but at least it gives me an excuse to stay close.'_

I leaned back and looked at my jottings, feeling unsatisfied. It seemed too simple, but I was sure that actually convincing him wouldn't be so easy. Maybe this was all about to come to an end. Maybe it really was this simple. Maybe.

An hour of town searching later, I found a place. Small enough that no other gangs would have gone for it, corrupt and unheard enough for us to get away with murder. Literally. I picked up my phone and licked my lips, starting to smile. Maybe this was finally over.


	19. Illusions

**_Illusions._**

_'A great deal of intelligence can be invested in ignorance when the need for illusion is deep.'_  
_-Saul Bellow._

* * *

"Really? You mean it?" I asked. My breath caught in my throat as excitement overwhelmed me.

"Sure, why not? If it means we get more cash without the competition then I'm up for it," Roberto said casually. "I want to work out the details of communication between us though. Zexion, ass here in an hour, come dressed smart, alright?" He said forcefully.

"Yes, yes, of course," I said, delirious with happiness. No more Roberto, just me, Demyx and Antonio, who I eventually hoped I could make peace with. With Axel and Roberto out the way, that would be child's play. I hung up and then ran downstairs, bumping into my father, who, for once, smiled at me.

"Zexion, can I talk to you quickly?" He asked. I gave a hesitant nod, hoping it would be quick. Ironing and dressing took about twenty minutes and it was a half an hour walk to Roberto's.

"Yes, certainly... What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, it's just... I was talking to your mother, and I'm sorry I've treated you... the way I have. I think you're very brave for coping with things the way you have, and I just wanted to tell you how proud I was." He pulled me into his arms, and slowly I wrapped my arms around him. I felt like his boy again. My heart felt as if it might burst.

"Thanks, Dad... That means a lot to me..."

"It's just," He swallowed and leaned back, fiddling awkwardly with his shirt. "It was a lot to cope with, you know? My own brother, I'm sorry we let that-" I raised my hand to silence him.

"Dad, there is nothing to be sorry for. It wasn't your fault, and it wasn't mother's fault either. I'm fine. I just want to move past it and forget about it. I won't let this shape my future, Dad. I'm stronger than that," I promised, my eyes fixed on his. He smiled proudly and pulled me into his arms again.

"How did I raise such an intelligent, strong, young man?" He asked and I just laughed, hugging him back.

"Dad, I've got to go out for a while. I'm just going to see a friend, but I'll be back later. We'll talk more then, okay?" I could tell I was cutting him short, but the time was getting on and I really needed to get going. Teary eyed, he nodded, placing his hand on my shoulder, sending warmth rushing through me.

"You've done good, Son," He whispered. "I love you."

"I love you too, Dad. I'll catch you later."

Axel's mother opened the door. I hadn't seen her before. She was pretty, but quiet. I suppose that suited Roberto. Just a trophy like Kairi had been to me. She offered to take my coat in traditional fashion. I told her I was fine; I wouldn't be staying long. I walked into the living room to see a furious Axel pacing around. Roberto was sitting, watching him with a displeased expression.

"I don't want to fuckin' go! You have no fuckin' clue how long I've been workin' on this, Dad!" He shouted. "I love him, I fuckin' love him and you're makin' me go!" Roberto rose and Axel turned to face him quickly.

"You think it isn't fuckin' hard enough for me knowin' my fuckin' Son's a faggot?" He spat. "Don't start givin' me your shit and fuckin' with the business, Axel, or I know exactly what I'll do to your little fuckin' boyfriend," He snarled and Axel fell silent before storming upstairs. I felt a pang of guilt; I had forgotten about Axel and Roxas. Oh well, Axel was a good looking guy, he'd find someone else, besides, he and Roxas could always write...

"Zexion, please, sit down, have a drink," He handed one he had already put in a glass over to me. More alcohol, I assumed. I sipped it and shuddered. That was possibly one of the most horrible tasting drinks I had ever had. I smiled all the same and looked over at him.

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Simply about why you need to stay here. Why not come with us, Zexion? Live the high life, enjoy the cash! It's going to be so much harder to run the gang from here."

"That's where Axel is. You said we were going to be working together anyway, right? I'll have him show up on my behalf and do everything I say. We'll be in constant contact." I beamed at him and looked up as Axel's mother walked in with a tub of salted nuts and crisps.

"Help yourself," She said to me politely and I took some as not to seem ungrateful. I sat, watching Roberto mull this over while I ate. I noticed myself slowly drinking more. The salt was making me thirsty. Despite the horrible taste of the drink, I got through it fairly quickly. The room was warm and I felt relaxed.

"So... is that everything?" I asked, noticing that Roberto was now looking at the television screen instead. So much for thinking it over.

"Not quite. You see, Zexion, it does cause a bit of an issue if you're here. You realise you would be completely vulnerable to attack?" I hesitated. I hadn't considered it because I didn't think they would do that to me. I knew they wouldn't... I knew... what were we talking about? My eyelids felt heavy... needed to get more sleep.

"I'm willing to take that risk," I grasped the words from my memory, not quite sure what risk I was talking about.

"I'm not. Zexion, you're comin' with us."

"What? No!" I mumbled. I made to stand up and found myself suddenly feeling rather weak. I hesitated. Panic blanketed me. I struggled to get to my feet and found myself on my knees. Roberto was laughing at me.

"Axel won't go either," I slurred. What the hell was wrong with me? Don't tell me I was drunk after one drink.

"I thought you might have this reaction. Axel, in return for some of his inheritance, and a promise of a comfortable future with his..." He looked disgusted. "Boyfriend, can be persuaded, of course... but overall, Zexion, the move was a good idea. Well done." I wondered if I had been poisoned. As a terrible tiredness took over me, as everything turned black, my final memory of that night was the regret that I wouldn't get to hear what my father had wanted to say to me.

I woke up, gagged. I pulled experimentally at my hands and found them bound behind me on the hardwood chair. The bastard... the bastard had drugged me. I squinted into the darkness, and for a moment I thought I was blind. No... material... I was blindfolded too. My movement had alerted someone beside me, and there was a gentle, cocky laugh that I recognised so well.

"Finally awake? How many pills did Dad put in your drink?" I tried to respond, but all that came out were angry, muffled sounds. "Sorry, Zexion. Can't untie you. Dad wants to talk to you first. He wants to make sure you accept what's happened." What? What had happened? Where the hell was I? My parents... I hoped they'd call the police. They'd miss me. They had to, right?

Roberto left me after a brief conversation which basically entailed him telling me that if I left, I was as good as dead. I was never to go back to my home town. Let me tell you everything wrong with that. I'd never get to see my parents again, nor Demyx. My school life would have to begin again. My life of crime, my fate, was sealed. This is how I would grow up... and you know what? I'd resigned myself to that fate within twenty four hours, for the entirety of which I was left at the mercy of the darkness crawling under my skin. What else was there to do?

When they let me go I was a different man, and with it, I requested a new name. I wanted the X removed. Why? X was an unknown. After this experience, I felt that there was nothing I didn't know about myself. It was something that had played on my mind in the basement. I'd toyed around with a few combinations. Zexion changed to Noiez, Zeion, Onzie, and then, eventually, Ienzo. I liked it. I, Ienzo, was lead to my room. Behind a new name, I could do anything. A new identity for a new life. Zexion was dead and gone. My earlier hopes had been nothing... nothing but a mere illusion.


	20. Adaptation and Evolution

**_Adaptation and Evolution._**

_'I think, then, that man, after having satisfied his first longing for facts, wanted something fuller - some grouping, some adaptation to his capacity and experience, of the links of this vast chain of events which his sight could not take in.'_  
_-Alfred de Vigny._

* * *

Four years had passed since then. I sat in a Biology lecture, taking notes fervently. My hunger for knowledge was insatiable, and I was incredible grateful to Roberto for giving me the opportunity to study at such a prestigious university. If nothing else, it was a chance to get out of the miserable town of Ergontoft, the same one which I had so brightly suggested we moved to.

I looked up at the professor, wishing he would move along a little faster. I was top of the class, and so the idle questions of those not really paying attention grated on me. If you weren't willing to study, in my opinion, you shouldn't have taken the course. Instead you should have left the space open for someone who truly cared about what they did. I was passionate about the subject to a massive degree; I dreamed of saving as many lives as I had taken since I took this business up. It would take a while, but it was worth it. I had a similar policy with some areas of my work; one of the changes I had made since taking over was that I had groups patrolling areas for rapists, or we would find out the current address of paedophiles. After that, we'd show up and bang. I ended one life to save another.

I slipped into the needlessly flashy car that Roberto had bought me and drove home. Home was a large house in the city of Itsar, where my University was located. Another gift from Roberto. I checked my phone to make sure I was allowed to stay there. Roberto texted me every day to tell me where I was allowed to stay the following night, and I followed his orders without question. It was easier that way. I sighed in irritation when I read the text. '_Ur staying here 2night. Got work tomorrow._' I wished I would've checked earlier. No matter; my house was on the way back to Ergontoft anyway. I got back in the car and started to drive back, listening to the radio until I was interrupted by my ringtone. I reached in my pocket and eased it out before pushing it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Enzy, Dude, how's it going?" I smiled. Xigbar, the only person I had stayed in touch with since my sudden departure.

"S'okay, fuckin' traffic is pissin' me off though," I admitted. I sighed at the build up of cars in front of me. It was always a bitch to get out of Itsar.

"Argh, man, gotta hate that. Shall I call back later when you're not driving?"

"Nah, pretty sure I can handle two tasks at once, Xig," I laughed, shaking my head. "So, give me the usual update. How's he doing?"

"Yeah, he's okay, seems kind of tired lately. Grades are good and he's still a fuckin' God on his sitar. He's not dropped that goddamn baby voice though," Xigbar growled. I heard him swig his drink.

"I wonder why not. Have you actually ever heard his real voice?"

"Only when he sings."

"Hah, cute. I did a cover of Behind Blue Eyes with him a few years ago, for some school shit, he's got an amazin' voice. Makes your fuckin' heart melt, don't it?"

"Yeah. Enzy, not being funny, but your town must be such a shithole."

"It is, but what makes you say that?"

"I swear you used to be well-spoken once."

"Fuck that, that was years ago," I laughed airily. "Hey, Xig, call me in a couple of days to let me know how that exam goes, the one he's got on the 20th, that alright?" I asked, smiling brightly now I had my information.

"Yeah, that's cool, catch you later, Enzy," He hung up and I smiled, putting the phone on the seat beside me. I liked that nickname. Enzy. Like enzyme, which I supposed was kind of fitting; I considered myself a catalyst, speeding up the reaction of the two gangs moving apart, but not causing it. Meanwhile, I had remained unchanged. At least, I liked to think I was.

I was stepping out just as Axel opened the door. I smirked at the knowledge that he had been waiting for me, probably watching out the window, and then went and embraced the man with the livid red hair.

"Hey, Ax."

"Hey Zo."

"Don't fuckin' call me that," I muttered grouchily, pushing past him. I head upstairs to mine and Axel's room. "Three, two, one," I muttered softly and then heard him come bounding up after me.

"So what are we doin'?" Axel asked, draping his arm around my shoulder. I let my head lull against him lazily as we walked into the bedroom.

"Well I'm sleepin', I dunno what you're doin'," I muttered with a weak smile. I threw myself onto the cosy comfort of the bed and gave a satisfied groan.

"Oh no you don't, not yet you're not," He protested, pulling out a small battered black book. The same book that is the reason that I can tell this story to you now.

"Not now, Ax," I complained, burying my head in the pillow. I heard him cross the room and I uselessly hoped I'd fall asleep before he got there. No such luck.

"Come on, write in your diary," Axel urged, pushing it in front of me with a pen. I looked at the book with distaste.

"Why do you always insist on this?" I asked, reluctantly opening it to my last entry before flicking onto the next page.

"So you don't forget anythin'. This is your life we're talkin' about. L-I-F-E, got it memorised?" He asked, tapping his temple. I rolled my eyes and cast them back down to the paper. Of course, Axel's obsession with memory, I had eventually realised, wasn't solely based around him as a person. As my past involved him, and my daily life, I wasn't allowed to forget that either.

"You gonna write to Roxas while I do this then?" I asked. He usually did, but I liked to make sure he was kept entertained while I wrote; I hated the idea of him looking over my shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess. I haven't heard from him in a while, he didn't write back to me," Axel said, sounding a little irritated. I looked away to disengage myself. I wasn't getting involved in this. Four years was a long time to be seeing each other on an irregular basis, and Roxas had grown into a handsome young man. It wouldn't have surprised me if he was cheating on Axel, though I refused to voice it for fear of hurting my friend.

"He's probably just busy," I brushed it aside and began to jot the basics into my diary.

_'Demyx - Fine. Good as always. Still miss him a lot. It's not a noticeable pain anymore, it's the sort of dull ache that you only notice when everything else is gone. You know like that painful, excruciating sound of pure silence that feels like it's crushing your skull in? It's sort of like that, only less extreme. I hate silence. I've started screaming at thin air these days just to block it out._  
_Roberto - Relinquished no control, same as usual. Nature becoming somewhat unbearable, but we should be going to a strip club tomorrow. Maybe that'll smooth the waters. Looking forward to getting laid again. Money gets you everywhere. Women here are such whores. I love it._  
_Axel - Cute as always, sounds like Roxas is cheating on him though. Didn't respond to his last letter. Poor Axel, he's a good guy, he didn't deserve that. I might try to contact Roxas to find out what the hell's going on; I don't want this interfering with Axel's work this week._  
_Parents: Still no word from them. Nothing. Nada. Thanks a lot, Josie. Neil... I stopped expecting better of you after John. You really built my hopes up on that last night, you cunt. I hate you for leaving me alone in this. Both of you._  
_Deaths: '_

I reached over and changed pen at this point, picking up a fine red one before writing in how many coffins rested on my conscience that week. '_VIII_'. Not so bad. Not good either though. One of them had been a paedophile that I'd had my new groups take out in the most sadistic way possible. I watched the tapes back later sometimes. It was hugely gratifying to watch the sick fuck's suffering. They were finding at least one a fortnight now. It kept me satisfied. Sometimes I counted the death of the paedophiles as murder, sometimes I counted it as a life saved. It depended on my mood really.

I shut the worn book and sighed to myself sadly before tucking it under my pillow and walking over to Axel, coiling my arms around his neck and resting my head upon his. He didn't style his hair if I came over anymore. That was something lost a long time ago when we became truly comfortable with each other. I looked over his shoulder at his letter; he never seemed to mind my invasive nature.

_'Roxas. i miss you and i hope you are okay. fuckin life so hectic that its stoppin you from writing me now? its only a letter. wish youd get back to me and not leave me in the dark like this. you know i worry about you. yeah i am pretty pissed because now youve left me with this playin on my mind. i think about you everyday. hope you are feelin the same. Roxas... i really love you. dont forget that, ok? please get back to me soon. this is my last year in this shit before Ienzo takes over and i swear after that ill never whine to you about this stupid fuckin bullshit again. i know you dont like hearin bout the things i do and im sorry. i love you, Roxas. well be happy together soon. own place and everythin ye? write back._  
_Axel.'_

"I think he's forgotten about me," Axel admitted mournfully, looking up at me. His writing made me shudder, but I supposed the content was sweet. I laughed and shook my head. I hated seeing that betrayed look in the red head's eyes.

"Axel, I'm pretty fuckin' sure he couldn't forget about you if he tried. I know I couldn't. He's probably just busy," I reassured him. That made him smile again. If Roxas was fucking Axel around, I'd shoot him myself.

"Time for bed?" Axel asked, standing up and undressing.

"Mmhmm," I agreed, exhausted. It wasn't even late, but if I slept, Axel slept; he got bored without me. I dumped my clothes on the floor and then clambered into bed, Axel soon beside me and holding me in his arms. I ran my eyes over him and then pursed my lips, somewhat irritated. I still envied his body, which was far more muscular than my own lanky build, making him the best at hand-to-hand combat. Still, I had my strengths. My eyesight was far better than his when I had my contacts in, and he was a terrible shot. Xigbar, for some reason or another, had a real talent with guns and had given me lessons. Axel wasn't allowed a gun after he shot me in the shoulder by accident on one of our missions.

"Goodnight, Ienzo," He muttered, stroking my shoulder blades lightly. I thought idly that Axel and I were probably only one step off being lovers. Why hadn't we taken that leap? Well, we had no hearts to give. People had already stolen them from us.

"Goodnight, Axel," I murmured tiredly, reaching out to hold his hand. He squeezed mine lightly and I did the same back. My ally, my brother (even if genetics disagreed), and my best friend. What more could I possibly ask for?


	21. Absence of Peace

**_Absence of Peace._**

_'Peace is not a relationship of nations. It is a condition of mind brought about by a serenity of soul. Peace is not merely the absence of war. It is also a state of mind.  
Lasting peace can come only to peaceful people.'_  
_-Jawaharlal Nehru._

* * *

One easy kill and a couple of drinks later, the strip club did a lot to ease my nerves and mind, though not my body. My eyes fixed on a gorgeous dirty-blonde girl with blue eyes and short hair. Roberto teased me about it and told me she was too masculine, but I couldn't take my eyes off her. My infatuation with Demyx had just been a phase, I told myself. I had never been more attracted to a woma- to anyone. I appreciated the small things about her like the playful smile she had, and the way her eyes would light up when a good song came on. Just like...

After work hours, Axel, Roberto and I waited outside, picking which women we would approach. I had been vaguely amused when Axel and his father chose the same woman and debated heatedly about who would try to get her into bed, but of course, Roberto came out on top. In an attempt to save face, Axel said decidedly that he shouldn't be sleeping with anyone else anyway because he was with Roxas. I'd pointed out that it'd never stopped him before. In response, I had gotten a punch in the stomach which I was practically immune to by now, and he had gone home to try once more to contact his boyfriend.

I approached the blonde afterwards and coiled an arm around her waist confidently. Idle chit-chat and a ridiculously large sum of money later, I'd had my decent fuck for the night. I was thrilled by the way her husky, almost masculine voice had caressed my senses and I decided easily that it was money well spent. Before I left for Roberto's again, I took her into my arms carefully and placed a soft, gentle kiss upon her lips. What a beautiful little object she was. When I leaned back, I took a while to gaze into the eyes that sent a familiar pang of regret through my heart. A painful reminder of what I had lost.

I drove home, taking a while to compose myself downstairs before going up to our room. I found Axel lying on the bed, eyes glazed over. What was it this time? I dreaded what may or may not have happened. I walked over to him and took off my jacket, throwing it onto the floor.

"Axel?"

"Mm?"

"What's wrong?"

"He's just rejectin' my calls. Fuckin' hell, four years, Ienzo, four fuckin' years!"

"...I'll try to get hold of him for you. He's just bein' a dick, Axel, you know what he's like, it's not the first time he's done this," I pointed out. I was sick and tired of watching Axel get hurt over someone as insignificant as Roxas who just seemed to leech off his money and only bother with him he had nobody else to talk to.

"Don't," Axel said, sitting up suddenly. "This isn't your business, Ienzo." I didn't miss the air of finality in his voice, and so I dropped the subject. I lay down next to him, pulling up my shirt and stroking my stomach subconsciously as I stared at the ceiling.

"How was she?" He asked eventually, waiting until the anger that had flickered between us cooled to a gentle simmer.

"Amazing," I breathed, and suddenly, I was Zexion again, the same boy who was completely and utterly in love with Demyx. My heart twisted painfully and I let out a choked cry of pain. Axel was used to my outbursts now. He knew exactly why I had chosen the girl. He coiled his arms around my waist and soothed me with comforting kisses across the back of my neck. I curled up and placed my hands on his, shaking in a mass of violent sobs that I would hold back for months at a time. The tears would only show their faces when a cruel reminder like this haunted me.

"Aww... Nothin' goes right for you, does it? Even your own parents didn't call, didn't care... Demyx didn't ever come lookin'... Don't worry though; I'll always be here for you, even if they're not," He promised. The pain he had inflicted with those words only found their ends in his promise. He offered himself as my only solution. I turned to face him and clung to my constant, and slowly Ienzo came back into power.

"Sorry, Axel..."

"S'alright. We all have our bad days," He muttered gently, caressing my side. I fell asleep in his arms simply so I would no longer be tormented by my waking thoughts. My infatuation with Demyx had just been a phase... suddenly the lie I had been telling myself didn't seem so convincing.

The morning after, I lay awake listening to the deep voices of Axel and Roberto from downstairs, though their words were indistinguishable. I couldn't help thinking about what Axel had said to me, and despite the fact I knew he didn't mean to hurt me with his words, they had reopened an old wound. He always seemed to bring that up when... well, when I was most vulnerable. But he had my best interests at heart... didn't he? I didn't want to believe my best friend, my only friend, was trying to manipulate me. I loved Axel but sometimes I wondered if our companionship was really anything more than a job to him. I supposed it didn't matter though; real friendship was just a childish, fairytale dream.

Fully dressed at last, I headed downstairs to join my colleagues. Axel and Roberto were sitting across the table from each other, now talking in hushed tones. Axel looked up when I reached the bottom of the stairs and then looked away guiltily. I arched an eyebrow.

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"We're takin' Antonio out," Roberto responded lazily. I tensed and then looked at Axel for explanation. Taking out someone like him was no small deal, but to my knowledge, it wasn't even Antonio in charge anymore, so why him? I couldn't help feeling like I was missing something...

"Demyx is gettin' too big for his boots. He needs to be taught a lesson," Axel explained. He could see the fierce protest on my lips and he raised a hand to silence me. "We won't hurt Demyx, Ienzo, for your sake. I know it'd break your little heart," He said patronisingly. My cheeks burned as I held back the urge to slam him against the wall and punch him until he couldn't breathe. I hated it when Axel spoke about my feelings for Demyx in front of Roberto; I had always tried my hardest to hide it. My fists clenched.

"Isn't this my decision?" I asked, gritting my teeth now. "Seein' as I'm the one in charge and all?"

"Some things, Ienzo, you don't have the nature to initiate. Things that need to be done. That's why Axel's still havin' to work with you in the first place but at the end of this year you're gonna have to learn how to manage your emotions better," Roberto scolded me. Was he calling me weak? After all I had done? After the amount of throats I had slit just at his mere suggestion? My eyes darkened as I imagined just a few of them. The way they had shrieked, the feel of teeth digging into my hand when I covered their mouth. The surprising strength of their flesh against the sharp blade, the twisted pleasure and fear of playing God.

"The fuck did Demyx do anyway?" I demanded, ignoring what Roberto had said to the best of my ability.

"Made it personal," Axel responded, standing up and pushing his hands into his pockets. Roberto smirked and sipped his drink.

"How?"

"I'll tell you later."

"We'll be going to a little reunion Antonio is havin'. It's gonna be him and the old members of the gang. Always said that fuckin' sentimentality would be the death of him," Roberto interjected, snorting at his own joke.

"Will Demyx be there?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. He shrugged.

"Shouldn't be. If he is, we'll just restrain him, won't kill him, I promise," Roberto reassured me. Axel ran his tongue over his teeth.

"C'mon, Ienzo," He grabbed my hand and pulled me upstairs. "I'll fill you in; Dad's got shit to do."

"What the fuck is goin' on?" I asked a little more aggressively now I was alone with him. "What the fuck did Demyx do that means you gotta kill Antonio? He's a good guy; he doesn't fuckin' deserve it and he's not even in the business anymore. I just don't see how it's going to benefit us..."

"It was a personal insult we can't just ignore. Would you rather we took out Demyx?" He asked. I fell silent, looking away.

"Last time I'm gonna ask, Axel, what the fuck did Demyx do?"

"He's been fuckin' Roxas," Axel responded with a chilling voice that rooted me to the spot.

"He... He what?" Suddenly my sympathy for Demyx drained away.

"Yeah, that's right. Little shit. Me and Roxas finally got talkin' last night and there's no way that was accidental. Demyx knew I was with him."

"..." I had nothing to say.

"We'll be takin' back over our old territory and rippin' their gang apart piece by piece if we have to. Point is, we get more territory, I get my boyfriend back, and Demyx can be dealt with later however Dad sees fit. This is out of your hands, Ienzo." He patted my shoulder and then forced me over to the bed, sitting me down.

"I gotta run out to get a few more people to come with. Wait here, yeah?" I nodded in a resigned manner, sighing heavily.

"Yes..." He walked away from me and hesitated in the doorway before turning.

"One more thing," Axel rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "You know what my aim's like. You've gotta make the shot. Sorry." He shut the door and left me with the shocked expression that he had painted on my features. I was going to kill Antonio, Demyx's father. I was going to take that away from him... I ran a hand through my hair before laying back. Good. What the fuck ever. It was his own fault. Fucking idiot. I looked at my hands and idly wondered how much blood was on them, knowing the exact number was in my little black book. I'd add on three for Antonio's death. It seemed more important than most of the vermin I wiped out. I assumed we'd be doing it tomorrow, and I hoped I could make it as quick as possible. I had no desire to watch Antonio suffer at my hands.


	22. Silenced

**_Silenced._**

_'Absolute silence leads to sadness. It is the image of death.' _  
_-Jean Jacques Rousseau._

* * *

The dull building stood before us in all its pretentious glory, aged with boredom. It was rented out like a whore by the hour, and tonight its occupants would know true loss. My blue eyes scanned the rooftop, falling upon three deathly black crows that cawed prophetically into the dark, heavy skies. I shook my head and pushed some of the tension out of my chest in a breath. The weight of what we were about to do pressed down on my mind, and no matter how many times I ran a hand through my slate blue hair to push it away, it wouldn't budge.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" Axel asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. The man was animalistic before a kill, especially if it was personal. None came more personal than this. I could practically feel the bloodlust emanating from his heart. I looked around the dank car park and then back at him, arching an eyebrow.

"What is?"

"The death of scum and vermin."

"Don't glorify this, Axel. This isn't the death of a monster; this is the death of a father for revenge... a man who once treated me well, so if you're quite done rubbin' salt in the wounds, I want to get this over and done with." He took his arm from around me with a grunt and looked at the others who were arriving in their cars. Eighteen of ours in total, and around fifty of _them_ had shown up, but we were fresh, new. These men were old, retired, and not as physically fit as we were.

Axel looked at me, bathed luxuriously in the orange glow of the lamplight. I noted the malicious excitement glistening in his eyes. He pushed the cold metal into my hands. I closed my eyes and took the gun from him. The adrenaline slowly began to pump through my veins in anticipation of what we were about to do. Of what _I_ was about to do. Roberto stepped up to the other side of me.

"Ready, Son?" I rounded and glared at him.

"Don't fuckin' call me that. I'm no son of yours and I never will be. This is business. Let's not pretend it's anythin' more." He laughed and slapped his hand on my back.

"At least sentimentality won't be a problem for you, will it, Ienzo?" He chortled, clearly amused by my lack of desire for an emotional attachment to him.

"Not when it comes to you," I responded bluntly.

"Alright, alright, let's get this show on the road already!" Axel shouted. There was no way they'd hear us over the festivities inside, the music a dull roar to us and a scream to them. I closed my eyes, aching with the need to sleep. I had been ordered to rest through the day, but had lay on the bed, tossing and turning while sleep cleverly evaded me, veiled behind my troubled thoughts and elusive values. I felt more and more these days as if my entire mind was about to go up in inconclusive smoke, transparent, but still very much there and battling itself fiercely.

Axel and I walked to the door, and I lay my hand upon the handle. What Antonio had not counted on when he invited people to his party was that out of those retired from his gang, at least five had come to join ours, which had become far more successful and active in the recent years. He would not think to lock the door. Tonight was not a night for worry, but for rejoicing, dancing, drinking and laughter. I shook my head. The man was as uselessly optimistic as his son. With the element of surprise still on our side, I threw the door open and stepped inside the hall with the single door at the end, looking quickly for Antonio. I had a matter of seconds.

His booming laughter caught my attention as he danced with a female... perhaps his wife? I had never seen Demyx's mother after all. He held her with the greatest of care, his eyes creased into smiles at the corner. He hadn't aged much, still looking almost exactly as he had when he had taken me in to make sure I had a good 18th birthday, and when he had wrapped the sitar for me when I hadn't had the time. Antonio spun the woman and pulled her close, still finding time to make her feel special even though he was surrounded by others who much desired his company. Antonio placed a soft, loving kiss upon her lips. A full three seconds had passed since I walked in. I raised the gun. Even I did not want to watch, but I couldn't afford to look away. I pulled the trigger. Antonio was gone. All that remained was a body. There was a second of nothing, no change, as if I had never fired. Then the horrific realisation accompanied by the ear-splitting scream of his blood-splattered wife that caught everyone's attention. The body of the man fell to the floor crimson fluid pooling around him, and then they turned to me. I fell back quickly, as I had been instructed. I waited outside, listening to the gunshots, and then walked back in after only thirty seconds; ordinarily that would be all it took for it to be over. There was nowhere to hide; it was like shooting fish in a barrel. After I walked in, there were two quick shots in succession. Blinding pain hit my stomach and ankle, and I cried out furiously. I looked over to see a man, not one of mine, playing dead on the floor. The gun in his shaking hand gave him away. I saw the briefest flicker of his chest rising and falling. I shot him in the head so that he could play no more. The floor was wet with drink and shattered glass spread across it, and as I turned to shoot the other motherfucker who had gotten me in the stomach, Axel took him out for me before hurrying to my side and wrapping an arm around me.

"You alright?" He muttered gruffly. I just nodded while he looked at my blood-soaked shirt, unaware of the bullet embedded in my ankle.

"I'm fine... c'mon, let's get out of here," I muttered, handing Axel my gun and looking around at the scattered corpses. I couldn't help giving a respectful nod to Antonio's body, feeling as if part of myself had died with him. The group laughed and jeered excitedly, Roberto patting me on the back and telling me I had done well while I rolled my eyes and said that it was nothing. Roberto and I turned once everyone was out, inspecting the damage. I looked up at the door that nobody had even had a chance to run out of, alerted by a gentle creak as it opened. I raised my eyebrows and tensed, wondering how anybody had been allowed to escape. My breath halted in my throat. Those eyes. Those scared, tearful eyes. Demyx. I saw them find his mother and father's bodies within a second. They flickered to me for the briefest of moments and disappeared. I looked at Roberto to see if he had seen what I had seen.

"...Take him out," Roberto told me. "Don't come back this way; this place is going up in smoke tonight. I'll meet you back home." Without a moment's further hesitation, I took off down the hall, across the bodies. The pain in my ankle and stomach was being blotted out by the bursts of adrenaline. I ran through the door and found myself in a hallway that only allowed me to go left or right. I saw the blond taking off down the left corner and sprinted after him, up the stairway and down to the other end of the building. Smoke chased my thoughts and I looked behind me to see it billowing up the stairs, knowing immediately that Axel had set the main hall on fire. I'd have to take the back entrance out. I ran down a new set of stairs that were in the middle of the hallway and watched as Demyx pushed open the door on the other side of the large kitchen, presumably for the building's catering. He sprinted outside, and despite my efforts, I knew I couldn't keep up with him. I came to a stop when I got through the door, the icy cold rain now crashing noisily down against the streets. The pain kicked in and, with a heavy heart, I began limping back to the car park while the building was consumed by the flames. I walked down a small alleyway, dizzy from the loss of blood and cussing with every step, the pain in my ankle growing unbearable. Everything was broken up. Hazy... I swallowed the taste of blood and took a moment to recuperate, clutching my stomach before dropping onto my knees at the end of the alleyway, the lamplight examining me. I just needed a break from walking. I glanced at my ankle, trying to see what damage had been done. A shadow fell over me and I was filled with dread as I looked up.

"Demyx," I whispered, but my eyes were fixed on the gun that was pointed at my head. I finally found the strength to drag my eyes to meet his, which were just beginning to brim with angry tears as the death of his parents sunk in. He stood over me. I reached for my gun before finding my pocket empty. Axel. I had given it to Axel. There was nothing I could do.

"How fucking could you, Zexion?" He whispered, his betrayed and broken voice making me look away. Zexion... a name, an identity that I had shed. He'd been the first person to call me it in so long...

"I... Demyx..." I looked into his eyes and I found my heart betraying me as the memories came rushing back, and I felt a rush of affection for the man I loved. I felt regret drag its claws down my chest for hurting him and taking his parents away. Even with the rain crashing down on him he looked more beautiful than anyone I had ever known. I wanted him to hold me.

"I'll kill you," He whispered, taking the gun off safety. My heart stilled a moment before remembering to beat. I wanted him to tell me it would be okay.

"Demyx, don't do this," I begged, fearing for my life for the first time. I had always been so confident before. I didn't want to die. I wanted him to love me again.

"I'll fucking kill you for what you did!" He screeched. Revenge was taken that night, as the metal instrument of death pressed against my forehead. A loud gunshot rang through the air.


	23. Loss

**_Loss.  
_**  
_'A great man is one who leaves others at a loss after he is gone'_  
_-Paul Valery._

* * *

A second of confused silence stung the night air. My eyes flickered to the chest of Demyx's shirt, through which the crimson fluid bled quickly. His tortured scream of fear and pain cut through my heart. Demyx fell to his knees before me, clutching his chest and beginning to sob, terrified. The make-believe fingertips of death were grabbing at him and gripping his throat, making it hard to breathe as he panicked. I looked up to see Axel holding the gun with a confident and cocky smile. He grinned at me and I just looked back at Demyx, my entire body quivering.

"Game over, Demyx," He laughed cruelly and kicked the defenceless orphan onto his front. He put the gun to Demyx's head and licked his lips, anticipation written over his face and murder on the fingertip which was so close to the trigger. I tried to yell at him to stop, but I couldn't summon words. My mind was frozen. Axel smirked and leaned back, listening to the blond crying. "Music to my ears..."

"Don't fucking touch him, Axel," I managed to spit out at last, crawling forward and cradling Demyx in my arms. The rain was falling harder now, beginning to sting with each strike, thunder now stirring furiously in the skies.

"I'm going to die," He whispered, closing his eyes despairingly, not wanting to look at Axel and I. Brushing his sopping wet hair from his face, I tried to smile at him, but all I managed was a pained grimace.

"No, no, Demyx, you'll be fine," I whispered, stroking his wet cheek. "We'll get you better..." My heart pounded, and I looked around desperately for a way to fix this awful mess.

"Put him out of his misery," Axel laughed, shaking his head and looking to the skies. "Personally I don't think he deserves such a luxury, but I'd rather not stand around here in the r- What the fuck are you doin'?" He demanded as I wrapped an arm around Demyx's waist and forced him to his feet. I pulled his arm around my neck to provide more stable support.

"We're getting him to a hospital, Axel. This is stupid, this isn't a fucking game. You've shot him in the chest; he's going to die and all because he fucked your boyfriend? He's suffering enough. Get out of my way." I said forcefully. He shook his head, stood in my path. My eyes narrowed.

"You can't. They'll ask questions, don't be a fuckin' idiot," He snarled. I winced, having forgotten about that in the bubbling chaos that was my mind.

"...Fine," I mumbled quietly, but persisted in trying to push past Axel. He moved this time, but cocked an eyebrow and followed me.

"The fuck are you goin' to do with him?"

"I'm taking him home, Axel. He at least deserves to die in comfort," I whispered, a fury-laced bitterness into my voice. I felt Demyx grip my shirt, but I didn't dare look at him for fear of the painful resolve shattering the second I saw his eyes.

"No fuckin' way," Axel stormed in front of me and pointed the gun at my head. "He dies now, Zexion, or do you want to die first?" The venom spilled from his lips, and I just gave him a dark look. I saw his finger creep closer to the trigger.

"Do it," I whispered savagely, my body shaking with adrenaline again. "Do it, Axel, I fucking dare you!" Lightening split through the sky, accompanied by an animalistic roar of thunder. This time I didn't flinch. He lowered the gun and I gave a small self-satisfied smile. I didn't know what had stopped him, and I didn't care.

"...Fine," He muttered hoarsely. He walked over to us and before I could react he grabbed Demyx. I began to protest, but he smiled at me and shook his head. My brow furrowed.  
"You really fuckin' love him, don't you?" He questioned with shock and disapproval. I didn't respond, not knowing what the consequences of my words might be. I heard Demyx give a whimper of pain as Axel pulled him up into his arms, carrying him bridal style. I took an aggressive step forward, noticing the pain in my ankle far more now.

"What the fuck are you doing, Axel?" I was looking at Demyx, his eyes now half closed as he looked up at the sky, clearly dazed as his blue eyes grew duller, though his breathing remained rapid.

"We'll get him to the car. Do all you can to help him when you get in, and call me if you need anythin'. If he survives the night, you better fuckin' run for it tomorrow, cause he ain't gonna like this one bit..."

"Axel..." Shock was plastered all over my face like a mask. He began walking at a fast pace to my car while I limped along behind him. He laughed, but I could hear the pain in his voice.

"What're best friends for? Besides, I'd hate it if I lost Roxy..." I pulled open the car door and Axel slipped Demyx in, even doing up his seatbelt before closing it roughly. I looked at the smouldering wreckage of the building that, together, we had brought to its knees. I then looked into Axel's beautiful green eyes, no longer tinted with malice, but with the misery of self-sacrifice. If Demyx survived, I would leave and he would lose me. Not only that, but he would be stuck in this dreadful business forever.

"...I'm sorry, Axel... and thank you," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. He held me, and then leaned back, patting my shoulder.

"Go on, get outta here before it's too late." He whispered, giving me a small, encouraging push. I ran to the other side of the car and got in, giving Axel a grateful nod, starting the engine. Our goodbye was incomplete, pushed along quicker than it should have been by pressure and time acting against us. My last look at Axel was through the back window of my car, obscured by rain as he waved goodbye before beginning to walk down the road through the storm; he needed to get home before Roberto could get suspicious. I pursed my lips and fought back tears. It could very well be the last time I ever saw him.

"Zexion," Demyx murmured beside me. My hands gripped the steering wheel and I began speeding down the street, provoked by Demyx's quiet whines of pain. I couldn't afford to mourn for the loss of a great friend; it would take time that I just didn't have.

I finally got back to the house Roberto had given me and I ran out of the car, pushing my door open and hurrying into the living room. I spent nine seconds just throwing years' worth of notes and files from my work in the gang off the table. I hurried back outside as the rain began to ease up, and pulled Demyx out. I could see how hard he was finding it to walk in a straight line, dizziness toying with his perception with lazy amusement. I hurried him in and gently helped him onto the table, pushing him onto his back. I locked up the car and closed the door. I couldn't help feeling irritated by the menial tasks that I felt I shouldn't have been doing right then. I grabbed all my biology and medical books from my shelf and dumped them onto sofa, sitting down beside Demyx.

"You can hear me okay, can't you, Dem?"

"Mmhm... Can't see well though," He mumbled. "Just dizzy..." I leaned over him and I felt him take my hand and pull it to his chest. I could feel his heart beating abnormally fast, and I looked down to see the concern in his eyes, the questioning and desire to live. I pulled his shirt open as quickly as I could, relieved to find the damage wasn't as bad as I thought. I'd thought that Axel had shot him in the heart; I knew that's where he had been aiming. I looked at the bullet wound in Demyx's chest, at least two inches away from its mark. I couldn't help it. I laughed. Hysterical, relieved, grateful laughter. Axel was so wonderfully terrible with guns. Thanks to that unquestionable fact, Demyx had a chance. I wouldn't let him slip away from me again.

The entire night was torture, and despite how relieved I had been about the likelihood of his survival, it was still hard work to fix the blond up. He had fainted within the hour, and his skin had grown breath-haltingly cold. There was one awful moment at 6:57 when I thought he had died. I had grown so used to his rapid heartbeat that when it slowed and his breathing adjusted accordingly, I thought all my efforts had been wasted.

Seven thirty in the morning. The sun had risen and the birds were singing, rebelling against the notion of further sleep. My eyes were sore and I ached with the need to curl up and let myself slip away. I had dealt with my own bullet wounds while Demyx slept soundly through the night. The one in my ankle, though painful, hadn't penetrated deeply, and the shot in the stomach had come from the side and hadn't gotten far in at all. Both were easy to remove, at least in comparison to Demyx's, but painful nonetheless. When I was sure his breathing was stable, I pushed my mounds of open books from the sofa, along with my laptop which had been unsurprisingly useful, and lay down. I closed my eyes and listened to the sweet sound of his breathing. Sleep took me almost instantly.

I dreamed about Axel that night. About all the times we shared together, the good and the bad, the fights and the laughter, the days we ignored each other and the nights we didn't sleep, just talked for hours on end. At the end of the dream, he took me into his arms and we said long goodbyes which were more confessions of how much we cared for each other, something no man said during his waking hours if he had any self-respect. He ruffled my hair, and for once I didn't mind. To this day, I remember the last words he said to me in that dream.

"Goodbye, Zexion. It's been fun. Don't forget me, okay? ... I sure as hell know I won't forget you."


	24. Those Three Words

_**Those Three Words.**_

_'__A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years.__'  
__-__Rupert Brooke__._

* * *

I woke late the next morning. The sun rushed in through the windows and ordered me to get to my feet, and the sound of Demyx's soft, natural breathing compelled me. I stood up and I almost wanted to laugh. The nightmare seemed almost as if it had drawn a close. Was this really over? Could I run from this? No more killing, no more crime... I had almost resigned myself irrevocably to that life, and now new faith was ignited in my heart, and was burning it up like a phoenix. I glanced once more at the sleeping form of innocence that was Demyx. Everything I knew him to be was so important to the very foundations of my sanity, and right then I knew I could never live without him again – or at least, not in my right mind. New life burst into me and I eagerly limped to the door. First things first. I needed to get my money from the bank. All of it. New ID, new lives, new house, we'd need it all. I was sure Demyx would be as happy as I was to escape this hell.

I opened the door and looked down when I got in. The black stood out boldly against my floor. I leaned down and picked up my diary, the one Axel had always made me keep. I felt suddenly that he was right. It was important to remember all this. I couldn't help glancing behind me hopefully at the empty street, but Axel wasn't there. He must have dropped it off for me. I'd never forget. I clutched the book to my chest and shut the door before going into my living room, only to find Demyx. He had woken up and was sat on my table, holding his chest with a pained expression.

"Dem?" I asked quietly. He gave me a scathing look and for a moment I thought he might kill me.

"I'm going home," He told me, then stood up and shoved past me. Panic spread through my body like a disease. Demyx. Demyx leaving? No. Demyx couldn't leave, and he wouldn't leave; I wouldn't let him. The sound of the door opening made me turn. I threw my black book down onto the sofa and hurried down the hall. I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, yanking him back. He was stronger than me, but I couldn't just let him walk away. I kicked the door closed aggressively and blocked his path.

"You're not fucking going!" I shouted at him. He looked at me like a stranger, like a madman.

"Move out of my way, Zexion," He told me with a self-control I no longer possessed.

"...Drink first," I said suddenly, desperation turning me into a monster.

"What?"

"I had to do some things to you last night. You need to drink otherwise you're body will reject the drugs I put into you. They need to be diluted. Just one drink with me before you go, c'mon" I pleaded with him. It was a lie. I knew it was a filthy, dirty lie. Demyx, however, did not. I saw the flicker of uncertainty on his features and I forced a reassuring smile onto my own.

"Come on, it's me, Zexion; I'd never hurt you." I would've hated myself right then, but years of living with Axel and Roberto had taken its toll on me. Now I did not feel guilt, only a sense of anticipation and exhilaration as I watched his reluctant walk back into my living room.

"Fine. Make it quick. I just want water." I did. I rushed into the kitchen and raided my cupboards.

Ten minutes later, Demyx's glass slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor as he was dragged unwillingly into the darkness of sleep. Tainted water crept across the floor. I cackled in triumph and my eyes sparkled with excitement. No, Demyx would never leave me. I would never let him. Not ever. Not really.

* * *

By the time Demyx woke up, it was 11pm and I was still driving, the gentle sound of classical music flowing out of my radio and soothing my heart, which seemed to be jerking irregularly every time I saw a vehicle that looked remotely like Roberto's. I had packed all my precious things in the back of the car and abandoned the house. It was no use to me anymore. I heard him sniff as he woke, and I glanced over at him briefly.

"You okay, Dem?" I asked kindly. His hands were bound to keep both he and I safe. I hadn't had the heart to put tape over those inviting lips. His blue eyes gripped mine and I found myself drowning quickly, almost entranced. I pulled my eyes away to focus on the road.

"You know," He began conversationally, his voice weak from lack of use. It gained strength quickly, and by the time he spoke again it was firm and condemning, "Zexion used to like classical music..."

"...What are you talking about?" My brow furrowed and I threw him another sideway glance.

"Zexion used to like it, that's all," He yawned and sat up straighter, looking out at the road ahead of us. "He was an old friend of mine. Smart, kind, stron-"

"Are you hallucinating or something? I AM Zexion," I spat and then paused, startled by my own reaction. I had spent so long denying that I was he, spent so long imprinting 'Ienzo' into my own mind and everybody else's, that I had almost forgotten the identity that had been attached.

"Nah." He looked over at me lazily and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Zexion was a good man. You're a monster. _My _Zexion wouldn't have drugged me and tied me up in his car. _My_ Zexion wouldn't have killed my mother and father. _My_ Zexion wouldn't be hurting me like this. I loved him, you see," He told me. "I think he loved me too." I felt my heart twist painfully while my stomach burned with anger. I began to hate '_his_' Zexion purely out of jealousy. Had I ever been that boy? The one who Demyx had loved? I wasn't sure anymore. I wished he'd love me instead though. I shook my head to clear it. What was I talking about? I _was_ Zexion. Demyx loved _me_.

"Shut up, Demyx," I muttered warily. The darkness was pressing its ugly face against the windows now, and stealing its way into my thoughts. I wanted to sleep. "We're stopping at a hotel. You're going to sleep in there the night, and it's going to be under new names. You are not to try anything, or else..." I never finished the threat. "Do you understand?"

"Whatever. It's not like I've got anywhere else to go, is it?" He asked, slumping back against the seat. I smirked to myself contentedly, victorious in his submission.

That night I watched him while he slept. I had sat in silence through the insults he hurled at me, and even endured it when he had told me he hated my guts and hoped I'd die. Just so long as I could keep him near. I was glad to find that, when he got out of the car, the drugs' lingering effect was enough to have him staggering and sluggish. It had made him easy to tie up again. Even easier to bind to the bed with his hands together against the bedpost, the rope almost like the one... frightening memories flickered, but I pushed them away. I didn't want to remember.

I crawled on top of him once he was asleep, taking his face in my hands and pressing my mouth against his neck. I breathed in his scent deeply. No sweet, artificial scent. Just Demyx. Just beautiful, wonderful Demyx. I traced my fingertip along his jaw and rest my forehead against his, giving a shuddering sigh. I wanted to cry with happiness. He made me complete, and I was obsessed with him. He just had to promise not to run away and I'd do anything he wanted. Promise to love me. Yes. I wanted that. I wanted to feel our hearts connect as they had once done before. I gave a strained smile and kissed his lips.

"I'm so in love with you, Demyx," I whispered to his sleeping form. Silence answered me. I pulled his shirt up and kissed slowly over his stomach, lulled into a sense of security by the sound of his heart pounding against his chest as though it were trying to escape. I stroked over the place where it beat, and then kissed it soothingly. "I'll never anyone else hurt you again, Dem," I murmured, and then leaned over to click the light off. In the darkness I crawled closer to him. I ran my hand over the top of the shirt I had gotten him into before we left, and then pulled the black material back down over his stomach to keep him warm.

"Sweet dreams... I love you." I repeated, and then fell quickly asleep, embraced by the knowledge that Demyx, _my_ Demyx was beside me again. He was back where he belonged.


	25. Square One

**_Square One._**

_'A player is said to have the opposition when he can place his King directly in front of the adverse King, with only one square between them._  
_This is often an important advantage in ending games.'_  
_-Howard Staunton._

* * *

I'd spent the last few weeks exercising my ability to make Demyx wake and sleep when I wanted, like a toy. I'd flick his imaginary switch and his eyes would close. I would no longer have to listen to his opinions on who I was now, nor who I had been. 'Monster', 'control-freak' and 'animal' were the ones he threw around most often, but it faded quickly from my mind as I prepared his 'medicine' as I now called it.

There had been no sign of Roberto pursuing in the past few weeks, and so I had decided to buy a small house in the countryside when we had eventually reached in Yilitstabin. The house I had chosen to make a home was far away from anything and everything, surrounded by daunting fields and large areas which were coated in tall, dark trees which it was impossible to see beyond. Naturally my vulnerable little siren had no choice in the matter. He was usually too far gone to protest anyway; I had tried to keep him sleeping until I was sure I could give him what he wanted.

Now I sat on the bed of our new home, stroking the dirty blond's cheek while he batted his eyelids at me placidly, a dazed confusion lingering around him. He hadn't woken long ago, and I stared into his hateful eyes with a loving smile.

"Let me go," He ordered, his voice laced with the whisper of a threat. I laughed mockingly.

"Where is there to run? Pretty little Demyx, there's nowhere to go... Besides, I'd track you down... I'd go to the ends of the Earth for you, Demyx."

"Not for me," He growled, and confusion flickered through my eyes.

"Pardon?"

"For the person you think I am... you keep telling me you love me, but you haven't even seen me in four years. You don't know me anymore..."

"..." I was silent and then my lip curled in distaste as I grabbed him by the collar, forcing him upright before dragging my uncut fingernails down his perfect cheek. "You haven't changed." I heard him gasp in pain. I pushed my hand beneath the shirt he was wearing and ripped my nails down his side, breaking the skin and beginning to quench my thirst.

"GET OFF ME!" My world turned upside down as he threw me off him and onto the floor. "Even if I was the same person..." I saw the blond get to his feet and stand over me, kicking me roughly in the side, drawing muffled cry of pain from my lips. "I'd hate you now. You think I'd forgive what you did? Zexion, you're evil, you're a bad person, you're a horrible person and I hate you! I hate you for everything you've done to me! I'll fucking kill you!" I started laughing hysterically at this point. I'd never seen him worked up like that but he looked so cute when he was angry, the way his eyes narrowed, his blue- ...green?

"...I thought you had blue eyes," I said suddenly, distracted. A puzzled look passed over his face and he touched his hand to his mullet, which hadn't changed a bit. He hadn't aged much either. His eyes. Why were they green? Demyx had blue eyes. I knew.

"What? What are you talking about? I'm outta this place, and if you try to stop me, I'll-"

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOUR EYES GREEN?" I was shrieking now. I got to my feet and slammed him against the wall, using his shock and drowsiness in my favour. I saw a flicker of fear and desperation in my own eyes, which were reflected in his.

"Leave me ALONE!" The boy with green eyes shoved me, sending me stumbling over. I fell with a thump to the floor and I hissed in breath through my teeth as my head slammed against the bed-post. I didn't move for a while, blinking back tears of pain.

"...Why are your eyes green?" Confusion and despair whipped my mind, dragging memories, lies and illusions out with sharp hooks which they struggled to escape from and so bled into one mess of flickering uncertainty.

"Zexion?" I heard his concern as he knelt down beside me and checked my head, asking if I was okay, but the words were blurred and drowned out.

"Why are your eyes green? Why? Why are they green? They were blue" I began to sob now, reaching out to clutch at his shirt. "They were a beautiful blue, like innocence and childhood, and now they're green, why are they green? Dem, I really, really thought they were blue!" I buried my head in his chest, and baffled in love and hate. He held me and stroked my hair, trying to soothe me.

"Contact lenses... I wear them a lot because I prefer my eyes blue..." Lenses. Contact lenses. Fake. He had lied to me. His eyes were not blue and so he was right - he was not the Demyx I had known so long ago, though the broken memories told me that it felt like yesterday when he had held me and kissed me and loved me.

"You're a liar then," I whispered, my face now void of emotion. "A criminal. A murderer... just like them..." I whispered in disbelief, and by saying it I knew I made it so. "You're no different to them!" I screamed and tried to hit him, but he grabbed my wrists and restrained them, pinning me to the floor now. I began panicking. The shortness of breath came and my eyes were wide.

"I never pretended any different, Zexion... but that's not because of my eyes. It's just who I am." The man with green eyes looked down at me, making me shudder under his murderous glare.

"...But I love you," I spluttered out pathetically, trying to reach out to touch his face, wanting to hold him how I used to, wanting him to trust me and wanting to be trusted in return.

"No, Zexion. You don't. Maybe you did once, and I loved you too, but now look... Let me go..."

"I can't! You can't! You can't leave me, Demyx! You won't! I'll have nothing, there's nothing here for me! I don't want anything in the world but you!" He grabbed my chin and dug his nails into me. I supposed I was getting a taste of my own bitter medicine. I grabbed onto his arm with my now freed hand, digging my claws in roughly and possessively. I was about to lose control. I felt his skin gathered beneath them. The silence hung between us. Both of us were tense and ready to fight. Adrenaline pulsed through our veins, and then... realisation slowly traced its fingers over his features, smoothing them out as he stared at me. My heart sank for reasons I couldn't fathom.

"You're insane," He whispered, and then loosened his grip on me. I reciprocated, but eyed him warily, as if he might attack at any moment. Instead he kissed me. Not a loving kiss, not a passionate kiss, but a small, mournful kiss. I tried to make it last longer, but he pulled away and shook his head. I stared up at him with lost eyes, trying to understand him.

"Insane?" I asked quietly. He just looked at me and waited. "...I'm not insane..."

"..." He sat me upright and moved off me before shifting close again and taking me into his arms. I could feel his weighted shoulders shaking with the tears of a terrible comprehension. I looked down at myself fearfully. I could escape John, I could escape Roberto, but I could never escape the confines of my own mind. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, and he ignored my protests against his claim, just hushing me until I fell silent.

"Get some sleep, Zexion. You look tired." He lifted me up with ease and strength that surprised me, and then placed me on the bed.

"You're going to leave," I said with the certainty of a man who has seen the same film over and over, and knows the ending perfectly well.

"I won't," He said sincerely, and then kissed my forehead despite my attempt to go for his lips.

"...Do you promise?" I asked, stung by his rejection but taking solace in the fact he was no longer trying to run.

"I promise."

* * *

Despite his words, I woke up to an empty house. I wandered around it like a lost soul, searching for him. For the first time, I now sat down and thought about my actions. I talked to myself a while, playing with a ladybird I had found on the window and had brought inside with a sweep of my hand. I loved ladybirds when I was a child, before John. They were so colourful and seemed to almost radiate happiness. I pushed it back and forth. My brow was furrowed in the concentration required for coherent thought as I spoke to it.

"I love him," I told it, watching it trying to crawl towards the window. "But he doesn't love me," I jabbed it roughly and saw the reflex blood beginning to trail out, but I paid no heed. "That's not right is it? Why sleep with me if he didn't love me?" I was dragging up the past and I knew it. I jabbed the innocent creature harder now. "I was good to him, I was kind and I was just trying to keep him safe, I paid for all his food... He changed, why did he change? It's not my fault! It's not! It's his fault, his stupid fault; I just wanted to look after him." I formed a triangle around it to trap it. "Friendship to him was always about not facing things alone, so why has he run away? Maybe he doesn't want to share the problem of my supposed 'insanity'." I laughed bitterly. "I'm not insane, I'm just angry. I'm angry because I just wanted to be happy and he had to ruin it, just because he wasn't... he wasn't..." The bug began to try to crawl over the triangle I had made around it with my fingers. I tilted my hand to stop it but it escaped anyway, falling onto the window panel again. Infuriated, I pushed my finger down on it callously and felt its body crunch sickeningly beneath. I pulled my finger away and looked at what I had done. I had killed it. Its body was broken, parts of it still stuck to me. I felt nauseous, and a crack of sanity pushed through the wreckage of my mind. What had I done? Demyx was gone, not because of anybody else, but because of me. I was disgusted with myself. I had acted irrationally, and while I may not have been insane, I had been desperate. Desperate not to feel this again, but now here it was. The furious heartache that shuts down your emotions one by one and tilts the chemicals off balance, the same pain that makes you dream constantly of the cure. I had ignored the warning signs, and I had done this to myself.

"Demyx... Fuck me, what the hell am I doing?" I looked at my hands and gave an exasperated sigh, feeling reality snap back into a clarity I had been lacking. I had been addicted to him, obsessed with him. Oh how pathetic. How like a teenage romance novel. How ego-crushingly childish of me to have fallen into such a simplistic, savage mindset. I wiped my hands on my jeans, but they still felt dirty and the thrill of imposing my will on others no longer seemed so appealing.

"Alright, Zexion," I muttered to myself as I pulled on my coat. I had taken the time to shower, tidy up my hair and change my clothes. We were in the middle of nowhere. Demyx couldn't have gone far. I still had time to make this right. I looked in the mirror and then shyly pushed back the hair that covered my other eye. I clipped it back and struggled to smile at my reflection.

"Let's give this one last shot."


	26. Letting Go

**_Letting Go._**

_'A big part of letting go is realising when it is time to stay in a situation, and when it is time to move on.'_  
_-Darren L. Johnson._

* * *

It was Zexion who stepped out of the door that day, and Zexion who began to search for Demyx, Demyx who Ienzo had hurt and scarred and... I shook my head. I was not two different people, though I felt like it sometimes. I was me, and I did bad things, like any person had the capability to... I closed my eyes and breathed in the air deeply before looking out across the golden fields. I also did good things.

"Demyx!" I was searching, but I was at peace, for I felt I had already found 5/6 of the answer. Now I had only to find the blond to whom I owed a great deal, and for whom I had so many apologies that could never be expressed in words. I passed through the fields, but the talented musician was nowhere to be found. I looked up at the trees that loomed so ominously over me, but inexplicably, I felt no apprehension about walking into the darkness. I began to leave the comfort of the sunny expanse, and though I couldn't fathom why, I felt as if I knew the paths that weaved in and out of the trees and despite their complexity, I was confident that I knew which one would lead me to him. As I walked through the mess of leaves, twigs and dirt, I had a lot of time to reflect.

I was a thief, I was a murderer. I was an embodiment of immorality and disgrace. However, I was also a man with the immense potential and in a few years I would have the knowledge to save as many lives as I had ruined. I would do so, not only to lift the weight of the coffins on my conscience, but because I wanted to. The penny dropped. I was not a bad person. I was a good person who did bad things. A bad person wouldn't desire this as strongly as I did. I wasn't evil. I laughed tentatively, as if I were scared of frightening off this precious revelation, and then wiped my eyes which had brimmed with the beginnings of happiness. The insane euphoria of inner peace washed over me. I was untouchable now.

When I found him, he was asleep, probably unable to stay awake the full day after the sleeping patterns I had gotten him into. He was curled up into a ball in a small clearing, his face screwed in displeasure, most likely due to a nightmare flashing through his mind. I frowned in the knowledge that the nightmare was probably little different from real life. Conscious of every action now, I walked over and intentionally woke him.

"Dem... Demyx, come on..."

"Dad... get up, please..." He wasn't quite awake yet, but the words stung me and I wondered if he was dreaming of what I had done. The green eyes slowly opened and the disorientation cleared quickly when he saw me. "NO! Get away!" He scrambled untidily to his feet, and I just watched sorrowfully, knowing I had near ruined what we had. I raised my hands in surrender when I saw the panic in his eyes and dropped onto my knees, but I was desperate to pin him and stop him leaving me. I understood quickly that one realisation wouldn't be enough to silence a need for control that had consumed my life for so long. I saw him taking a few steps away from me, and my muscles tensed.

"Demyx... Please, I'm sorry, I won't hurt you..." I gushed out the words, wanting to explain myself. "I know what I did was wrong, but I love you, I may not be in love with you, because... well... you're right; I don't know you anymore. But I want to, and I want to go back to how we were. I need you to give me a chance, Demyx."

"..." I could tell he was cautious, and I watched him begin to walk slowly around me. I did my best not to turn my head, wondering if he might try to strangle me. "The thing is, Zexion... we both know that you're smart enough to be lying. I think you're doing this to get me back." I considered this, and I knew he was right. I stumbled over myself to try and find a way to convince him, but I knew the only way to do that was to act against all instinct I had screaming inside my head.

"...Then go. If you really can't believe me or trust me again, then I need you to go, because trust me, Demyx, I'm going to take years to get over you," I said with conviction, locking my eyes with his. I watched him turn his back on me. Demyx walked away. I let him.

* * *

Three hours later, I was back home and I was reading because it was the only thing I could focus on. My hands were shaking with the beginnings of a loss I couldn't yet face, and my eyes were vacant. That night I didn't sleep, I just kept reading, and I kept reading the same line over and over again. I kept reading the same line over and over again... kept reading the same line over and over... over and...

_Bzzt. Bzzt. _I jolted into the waking world again and grabbed at my phone which was vibrating on the bed-side table. I pulled it to my ear, needing that link to reality right now, because this felt like a living nightmare. What did I have left?

"Hey, Dude," came oh-so-familiar voice of someone who was almost a father figure to me now.

"Xigbar..." I mumbled, my eyes welling up as reality hit me hard, and I gave a slow, shuddering sigh of satisfaction, allowing my subconscious to mull everything over. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the blank ceiling, a sad smile spreading across my features.

"How've you been? I haven't spoken to you in a while." I hesitated. I had never told Xigbar what had really happened to me. I'd always twisted the truth because there had never been a 'good time' to tell him all that had happened. The weight was heavy on my chest, and I supposed Xigbar hadn't expected this response to such a simple question. I told him everything. I could hear him finding it difficult to formulate responses, but I loved him for trying. He stayed up all night with me even though he had work the next morning, and by 7pm, I felt almost back to my old self. To have someone talk and listen, to have someone that really cared.

"If you love something, Zexion, you've gotta let it go,"

"I know, and if it doesn't come back, it was never mine to keep..." I sighed in a resigned manner.

"You've been through a fucking lot, Kiddo. Guess it's not really right to call you that anymore, is it? Should probably talk to a professional about this instead of someone like me though."

"I know, Xigbar. I'll get around to it. I think I just need to get some rest right now." I closed my eyes and heard him give a light-hearted chuckle. It was a nice sound after the heavy mood that had been lingering over me.

"Alright, goodnight, Zexion. Take care."

"Night, Xiggy. Thank you."

I hung up first because I couldn't bear to hear the line go dead on me. I curled up in the white sheets, breathing in deeply. I could still faintly smell his scent, and that comforted me. I needed something to cling to, and so I carefully cradled his pillow in my arms, and then pulled it close, burying my face in it. The silence pressed painfully against me, and I curled up tighter to protect myself. The warmth of sleep was a long time coming, but when it took me, I watched my life play with a detached kind of regret and acceptance. The dream reminded me of something special. A little black book that lay abandoned somewhere in the boxes I had yet to unpack. A little black book that told the story of my life better than any dream ever could.

I owe it all to you, Axel.


	27. The End

**_The End.  
_**  
_'If patience is worth anything, it must endure to the end of time. And a living faith will last in the midst of the blackest storm.'_  
_-Mohandas Gandhi._

* * *

Letting go of control is one of the hardest things to do. Letting control stop controlling you is even harder.

Years had passed since I had seen the beautiful... hmm... somehow I don't want to say beautiful anymore. I'm talking about who he is, not what he looks like. That passionate... no, too lustful, not what I'm trying to say... Until now, I have hidden all these mistakes from you, but now we are reaching the end of my sad little story, I think you and I are familiar enough that I show the entries in the black book to you in their honest entirety, and never did I make more mistakes than near the end. Why? Because the end is when it became so incredibly important to me to say exactly what I meant.

Demyx. Just Demyx because you and I both know what he means to me, and because for me there is no other way to describe him than with the name that holds his entire identity. At least, his identity as I remember it. Thank you, all of you, for following my story so far. I'm pleased to present to you the final chapter of that story which begins a long time after I watched the love of my life walk away.

* * *

Thirty-two years old and I was now a confident surgeon. Never without my black book, I was happy to be ticking off the crude tally charts as I went. The life of bloodshed was nothing but a brutal memory, one that seemed detached from my own life. Happy as I was, that is not to say that I did not want for things; after all, I still spared a thought for Demyx every now and again, wondering late at night if somewhere in the world, his heart was still beating.

However, there were some things from my past that continued to stain the present, but they were things that I was aware of this time around. When we had any particularly alarming casualties come in, I made sure I never looked them in the face. Why? Because if they died, it made me feel as if I had killed them, and I would have to add another dash to that little black book. The first time I lost a patient sent me running back to Xigbar who had taken me home again within that day and made everything better the way he always did.

I saw the man when he was brought in, blood covered his face, and he was moaning in pain. A sight that was horribly familiar, really, and as usual I avoided looking at him too closely above the neck. Of course, I was soon patching up the man who was scarred so horrendously to the best of my ability. He had been stabbed with what I found out, by the end of the week, was a screwdriver before being beaten and set alight. A passer by had called the police to end the torture which had been taking place in a front garden in broad daylight. It sickened me how many people must have walked away and allowed this to happen before someone had the sense to make it stop. I let the feelings of anger slip through my fingers and carried on with my work as usual.

A fortnight later, I went to see the man who was now being spoken to by the police about the attack. I heard his voice before I saw him.

"Look, nothing happened. I'm not pressing charges. Leave me alone, alright?"

"We just need to kno-"

"GET OUT! GET OUT!" I recognised the crack in the voice, the fever pitch of stress and the uneasy feeling that always came when I heard someone that distressed. I wondered vaguely why he was panicking so much when they were only looking to see who had hurt him. Maybe he was afraid that they would come back...

"Excuse me," I broke in before the two police officers could protest. I walked over and kept my eyes trained on theirs.

"What?" One of them asked, scratching the back of his neck. I eyed the uniform apprehensively, a feeling of fear trickling over me. I still didn't like being around these people, but the logical part of my brain reminded me that they were doing a job, just like I was, that's all.

"I'm sorry, we can't have you here right now, he's not well enough," I said, nodding towards the man and looking at him for the very first time. My lips parted and my eyes widened at the sight of those green eyes and I saw the recognition flicker across his too. Demyx. I cleared my throat and faced them again, now understanding exactly why he had been so unwilling to pursue the matter.

"Perhaps you could come back in a couple of weeks, but not right now. I'm sorry, you shouldn't have been allowed in."

"But we were told-"

"You were misinformed, sorry," I told him sharply, my anxiety making me snappy. With an irritated look, they turned and left while I faced Demyx. I chose my next words carefully, running my tongue over my lips.

"Zexi-"

"So I guess that's the second time I've saved your life, Demyx," I told him. He cautiously grinned back at me.

"Don't flatter yourself. You didn't save it the first time." I smirked, and then offered my hand for him to shake.

"It's nice to see you again, Demyx... I'm assuming it's gang life that's left you in this mess?" I asked while he eyed my hand with a slight confusion before shaking it.

"Yeah. You finally made it here, huh?" He asked with a smile that I remembered only too well.

"Indeed, and it seems fate has brought us together again," I joked. He laughed and blushed faintly, the compliment now sounding as foreign as if from the lips of a stranger. I could tell he was lost for words, and so I controlled my childish excitement about being reunited with him.

"I'll visit you tomorrow, and not on business. I've left that life behind me now," I reassured him. I looked into his exhausted eyes and felt a touch of sadness. If you looked and if you knew, there was always something haunting and almost gaunt about the eyes of a man who has been in the kind of business that we had. I now saw what I had blinded myself to years before. He had been just as screwed up as I was. He just hid it better.

"Alright..." He cast a worried look over to the door and I smiled at him.

"The police aren't coming back, Dem, and I'll keep my eye out for anybody suspicious. Relax and get some rest... you need it." I gave him one last smile before slipping outside and letting it fall off my face. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. Still in the business? He'd end up dead before he'd hit forty at this rate.

Our conversation, which had began fragmented and broken changed into one where we were speaking like old friends again until words spun unpleasant reminders into our minds and once again it fell to pieces. I made one last attempt to salvage it, smiling meekly at him.

"So, will you tell me what happened?" I saw the pain of remembrance painted on his features, but I did not retract my question.

"We did a raid a few months before, some huge ass house, and of course we didn't touch the kids room. Or at least, I didn't. Some dick that came with us, new guy, a real scumbag... I walked in on him taking things from the kids room and I pulled him out, threw all the stuff back into the room and the other guys beat the hell out of him. You don't take stuff from kids. Ever. You know that, Zex." He looked to me, as if appealing to a nature I no longer had. I didn't approve of stealing at all, but I understood what the old restrictions had been, so I nodded.

"Old people or kids are a no-go. Rich motherfuckers are fair game," He said with conviction. I grimaced at the cussing and morals he had inherited from his gang. Demyx caught my expression and cleared his throat, now toning down his language for what I could only presume was my benefit.

"So what happened?"

"Kid's dad woke up, 'cause the kid woke up because this cun-... this guy was screaming, and I was getting everybody out 'cause it's still my job to look after my men. I don't care what anybody else says. I got them out but he saw me when I went back and grabbed the shit we'd taken."

"Well that was stupid of you," I concluded. Demyx just shrugged.

"He tracked me down a week later with some of his dickhead friends, broke into my house. It was during the day, so I guess I didn't expect it. They beat the shit out of me and dragged me outside. He tied me to a tree, stabbed me repeatedly with a screwdriver and then set me on fire and ran off. The fire burned through the rope quick enough so I just rolled around on the floor until it was out... but I guess I didn't quite do it fast enough, huh?" I eyed the burns that coated his body, some that slashed the edges of his face, and finally the spots where his hair had been burned away. To me though, he was still as beautiful as he always had been.

"At least you survived, Demyx. That's what really matters. You'll probably be out within a month." I was surprised by the look of distressed frustration that was now made apparent as he shook his head desperately.

"I wish I didn't survive now. I don't want this anymore, Zexion, I want to run away from it all, but they'd find me. I've got nowhere to go anyway, not since Da-..." And so our conversation dissolved into silence, and all that remained was the buzz of the hospital around us, people rushing past the doors while others walked in calmly to visit the people they loved.

"I'm sorry about that," I said, ashamed of the past. "Your father was a good man."

"I always wondered, Zexion," Demyx said, sitting straighter now. "Why did you kill him? I thought after your parents were killed you'd know how fucking much that hurt." I stiffened and my eyes grew wider.

"...My parents are dead?" I asked in a whisper. No calls. No attempt to find me. Suddenly it hurt so much more, but somehow so much less. Then perhaps they had loved me after all, and it had not been because I had been disgraced by John that they hadn't wanted me. They hadn't had a choice. My mouth went dry.

"You didn't know?"

"Roberto killed them." It wasn't a question, but a statement. I knew. He nodded slowly and leaned back, looking tentative. I debated quietly with myself how to deal with this. Did I go back and settle the score? Perhaps end his life, or ruin it the way he had ruined mine? I took a few deep breaths and reminded myself that anger was just a collection of negative thoughts. I let it go.

"Did they suffer much?" I asked softly.

"Throats slit. They weren't intended to suffer. He just needed them out the way." I gave a soft groan and massaged my temples. At least they were at peace now... So Axel had lied to me too. They had manipulated me into thinking my parents had never cared, and to great effect. Did that mean Axel had never really been my ally? I brushed that thought aside. No, I knew he had cared. He had given up a lot for me to be allowed to live in peace.

"Sorry, Demyx, I really have to go," I said, sighing and standing up. He cast me a concerned glance and I just smiled in response. "You really want to get away?" I asked him. He nodded slowly, a confused kind of hope dawning in his eyes. I kissed his cheek and left without another word.

* * *

"So what do you think I should do?" I asked Xigbar, sitting on my bed and listening to his chuckling on the other end.

"Kid, if you want to go and you want to take him with you, then go for it."

"I'm in my thirties, you cannot still be calling me 'Kid'," I murmured fondly.

"I'm retired, I can do what I want," He snorted. I could hear that he was grinning from the way the words come out.

"I'm going to miss you if I go. I don't even know where to..."

"Why not the UK? They've got a decent healthcare system from what I hear." I wrinkled my nose.

"Like England?" I asked, unimpressed with his suggestion.

"Look, do you want a job or don't you? At least it's kind of a similar system there." I nodded,

"I suppose," I muttered, resigned to my fate of living in a country where everyone would probably be -

"And they'll be as stiff and uptight as you are," I smirked, loving how he seemed able to read my mind.

"Yeah... Make sure you visit, alright?" I asked, holding the phone tighter now. He laughed.

"Course I will, dude! You think I could deal with not seeing my favourite little geek for that long?" I laughed, but I knew leaving him would be difficult for me.

* * *

"England?" Demyx asked, baffled. I nodded, now set on the idea, not because it was a particularly good one, but because Xigbar had suggested it.

"I'm offering you a chance to escape all this, Demyx, but only if you want to. We can go together and I'll get a job there. I can support you until you while you're unemployed, and then after that... well, if you want to stay with me you can, and if you want to leave you are more than welcome." He stared up at me, his green eyes scanning my face for some sign that this was all a joke.

"Why would you do that? Why would you give up all this for me?"

"Because I learn from my mistakes, Demyx, and I learn from example. A good friend of mine taught me what it was to make sacrifices for those you truly care about." Demyx knew immediately who I was speaking of and dropped his gaze.

"Oh..."

"So do you want it or don't you?" I asked. He nodded slowly.

"Yeah... I really do."

* * *

By the end of the month we were on the plane to England, him sitting at the window seat, staring out at the sky, and me writing a new entry into the black book that Axel had given me. My left hand held his as I jotted down my thoughts. I wrote in all the details I knew I would need to remember, right down to the decision that I would mourn for my parents once everything was set up at our new home, and I would do so in private.

"Zexion?" Demyx murmured from beside me. I tore my eyes from the words and looked questioningly at him.

"Yes?"

"I love you." I smiled and blushed as he leaned in, kissing my cheek.

"I love you too," I responded, squeezing his hand.

And that was all that needed to be said. A happy ending? Who knows? Certainly not me, but I suppose that would ruin all the fun, wouldn't it?

The last thing I did on that plane was make a decision to write up my tale. I'd probably submit it to some writing website, change a few names around here and there, and finally put it out into the world because I want it to be heard. I want anybody reading this to know that no matter what happens, no matter how crazy things seem, there are some great people out there who are really worth dying for. Then there are some not so great people, who you should probably avoid. If you don't? Well, there's always time to correct your mistakes. Don't waste time with people who will only hurt you. Love every second of life because it's fragile and precious. Appreciate what you've got, because the chances are it won't always be around. Never lose sight of what you truly believe, and if you love somebody, make sure you always show it. The future is what you make of it. I wish you all the best.

Thank you.

* * *

Author's Note: A huge thank you to everybody who followed 'How Much is Enough?' to the end. I'm extremely grateful to all of those who reviewed this story, all of you who added this to your favourites and all who opted to receive alerts. Please do review, and don't hesitate to message me if there's anything you want to ask.

The plans for the future are as follows. We'll be writing the next story shortly, and the poll for what we write is on our profile, so it's all up to you really. Axel may get his own story as a kind of sequel to this, so if you are interested in what happens to him, please let me know in the review or add us to your author's alert list. Thank you for reading.

Yours,  
Terminal VIII.


End file.
